i LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

I '"</■ 'BV45C | 



♦UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.} 



Wei it is for the Protestant cause, which, in some respects, never had a more valiant champion that 
Richard Whately is still Archbishop of Dublin. We most cordially recommend his writings. They 
can never be read without instruction.— Episcopal Recorder 

LINDSAY & BLAKISTON, PHILADELPHIA, PUBLISH 

I. 

SCRIPTURE REVELATIONS 

CONCERNING A FUTURE STATE. 

In one volume, 12mo. Price, 75 cents. 

This work can hardly fail to be interesting to the people of God, discussing, as it does, the most im- 
portant of all concerns, our relations to a future state of existence.— Presbyterian. 

We can, wrth great confidence, recommend it as one of the greatest efforts of mind of the present 
generation.— Southern Baptist. 

It is an able contribution to theological science, and every minister of the gospel, and every man 
who has capacity or relish for such subjects, should read it.— Presbyterian of the West. 

No book is more needed in this age of scepticism, and no man better qualified to write it than 
Bishop Whately.— Christiun Chronicle. 

We most cheerfully recommend this volume to our readers as an antidote for the errors of the 
day.— Christian Secretary. 

II. 

SCRIPTURE REVELATIONS 

CONCERNING GOOD AND EVIL ANGELS. 

In one volume, 12mo. Price, 63 cents. 

The clear, cogent, and logical writings of the eminent Archbishop of Dublin, can never fail to secure 
readers. When he asks attention, he is sure to have something to say which is deserving of a hearing. 
and is always amply prepared to reward the attention he has excited. In the treatise before us, he 
puts to flight the ignorant unbelief of those who profess to discredit the existence and influences of evr". 
spirits. Each topic is discussed with eminent clearness, and the Scripture doctrine is evolved in a 
manner highly satisfactory. 

III. 

THOUGHTS AND APOPHTHEGMS, 

RELIGIOUS AKD MISCELLANEOUS, 

FROM THE WRITINGS OF ARCHBISHOP WHATELY. 

In one volume, 12mo. Price, $1.00. 
There is a directness of aim and argument, and a wide compass of mind, in the Writings of 4rch 
feitaop Whately, which commend them to thoughtful, discriminating readers. — Lutheran Observer. 

IV. 
LECTURES ON THE LIVES AND WRITINGS 

OP 

OUR LORD'S APOSTLES. 

In one volume, 12mo. (Preparing.) 
Intellectual vigour, extensive erudition, strong common sense, and manly argument, commend Me 
work to the attention of students and general readers.— Christian Observer. 



LINDSAY & BLAKISTON'S PUBLICATIONS, 

JUn 8k latbauglps popular Wmfo. 

LINDSAY & BLAKISTON, PHILADELPHIA, 

t ublish the following Series of Books, which have received the approbation of aft 
Religious Denominations: 



HEAVEN, 

^R, AN EARNEST AND SCRIPTURAL INQUIRY INTO THE ABODE OF THE SAINTED DEAD. 
BY THE EEV. H. HARBAUGH. 

PASTOR OP THE FIRST GERMAN REFORMED CHURCH, LANCASTER, PA. 

In One Volume, 12mo. Price 75 Cents. 

THE HEAVENLY RECOGNITION, 

OR AN EARNEST AND SCRIPTURAL DISCUSSION OF THE QUESTIOH, 

80ill m Ittntir mtr /raids in Iehdbd? 

BY EEV. H. HARBAUGH. 

In One Volume, 12mo. Price 75 Cents. 

THE HEAVENLY HOME; 

OR, 
THE EMPLOYMENT AND ENJOYMENTS OF THE SAINTS DC HEAVEN. 

BY THE REV. H. HARBAUGH, 

AUTHOR OP "THE HEAVENLY RECOGNITION OF FRIENDS," AND ''BEAVENJ 
OR, THE SAINTED DEAD." 

In One Volume, 12mo. Price $1 00. 

HARBAUGH'S FUTURE LIFEj 

CONTAINING 

HEAVEN, OR, THE SAINTED DEAD, 
THE HEAVENLY RECOGNITION, 
THE HEAVENLY HOME. 

HREE VOLUMES, NEATLY BOUND IN CLOTH WITH GILT BACKS, AND A PORTRAIT 
OP THE AUTHOR. PRICE $2 50. 



Copies of the above Books, har.dsomely bound for presentation, in cloth, 
full gilt. Price of the first and second volumes, $1 25 each; of the third $1 5<X 



THE 



INNER LIFE 



EEV. FREDERICK A. RAUCH, D.P., 

FIRST PRESIDENT OF MARSHALL COLLEGE; 
AND AUTHOR OF " PSYCHOLOGY, OR A TIEW OF THE HUMAN SOUL." 



EDITED BY 



EEV. E. V. GERHAET, 

PRESIDENT OF FRANKLIN AND MARSHALL COLLEGE, LANCASTER, PA. 




PHILADELPHIA: 

LINDSAY AND BLAKISTON. 

1856. 



-p 



i^\ 



w 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1856, 

BY LINDSAY AND BLAKISTON, 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Eastern District of Pennsylvania. 




C. SIJERMAN & SON, PRINTERS, 

19 St. James Street. 



PREFACE. 



Rev. Frederick Augustus Rauch, born in Kirch- 
bracht, Hesse Darmstadt, July 27th, 1806, was a gra- 
duate of the University of Marburg ; subsequently he 
prosecuted the study of Philosophy and Theology in 
Giessen and Heidelberg, and was then appointed Pro- 
fessor of Philosophy successively in these two celebrated 
Universities. Becoming obnoxious to Government by 
the expression of rather liberal political sentiments, he 
emigrated to America in 1831, and spent nearly a year 
in Easton, Pennsylvania, where he was elected Pro- 
fessor of the German Language in Lafayette College. 
In the fall of 1832, he was elected Principal of a Classical 
School, located at York, Pa., and filled the office for three 
years with superior ability and great success. In 1835, 
the School was removed to Mercersburg, and converted 
into a college by a charter from the Legislature of the 
State, under the name and title of Marshall College. 
Dr. Rauch was chosen President. In this capacity he 
labored with extraordinary self-denial, diligence, and 

l* 



VI PREFACE. 

zeal until March, 1841, a period of five years, when 
it pleased an all-wise Providence to call him to his 
reward. He died in the thirty-fifth year of his age, 
just when his intellectual vigor had fully matured, and 
he was turning his profound scholarship and extensive 
erudition to greatest account for the kingdom of Christ. 
From the time that Dr. Rauch arrived in America, 
he had devoted himself with great assiduity to the 
study of the language of his adopted country, and soon 
acquired a thorough knowledge of its laws and idioms ; 
and, if we except pronunciation, he may be said to 
have mastered nearly all its peculiarities. Hence he 
began to use the English language in the class-room as 
soon as he took charge of the School at York. But 
when he became President of Marshall College, he felt 
that his duty to the Institution demanded something 
more. He opened a regular Sunday Service in the 
College Chapel for the particular benefit of the students, 
and took his turn with his colleagues in the public 
preaching of the Gospel. As these discourses were ela- 
borated generally with special care, and have frequently 
been solicited for the press by those who are cognizant 
of their intrinsic value, a number of them were placed 
in the hands of the Editor for revision and publication 
about a year ago by a relative of the Author ; and the 
present volume is the result. 

To the surviving pupils of Rauch, to the later students 
of the College over which he presided, as well as to 
the literary and religious community in general who 



PREFACE. vii 

have learned to venerate his name through his profound 
and popular work on Psychology, we doubt not this 
volume will be an acceptable offering. It exhibits his 
spirit and character as a Christian, the nature of his 
labors as a minister of the Gospel, and his method of 
thinking in its direct application to the Christian reli- 
gion. Though not popular in the prevailing sense of the 
word, he was nevertheless as faithful, instructive and 
efficient in the pulpit as he was thorough, interesting 
and successful in the lecture-room. A clear conception 
of the Divine personality of Jesus Christ in His vital 
relation to the doctrines and precepts of Christianity, 
gave a distinctive tone to all his discourses. In some, 
philosophical discussion is predominant, and for this 
reason such may properly be called philosophico-theolo- 
gical dissertations. In others, clear thought and tender 
feeling are beautifully blended. But, though the de- 
termining influence of his philosophical thinking upon 
the order of discussion and upon his views of Divine 
truth, is always seen and felt, yet the recognition of 
Jesus Christ as the true God, as the only way of sal- 
vation, and of the Sacred Scriptures as alone possessing 
normal authority for faith and practice, reigns supreme 
in all, and gives them an eminently Christian and 
practical character, as distinguished both from vapid 
sentimentalism on the one hand, and rationalistic 
speculation on the other. For he tested the truth of 
all his views in theology and philosophy, by the positive 
teachings of Christ and His Apostles. 



Vill PREFACE. 

The volume acquires interest also from the fact that 
Dr. Kauch was properly the founder of Marshall Col- 
lege. Under the influence of his powerful mind, sus- 
tained by many friends of classical education in the 
German Reformed Church, the Institution was brought 
into successful operation. By his energy, scholarship, 
and self-sacrificing devotion, aided by the efficient 
labors of Professor Samuel "W. Budd, its first reputa- 
tion for literary and scientific character was acquired. 
More than this, however. The first impulse to the 
mode of thinking which has distinguished this Institu- 
tion through its whole history from many similar In- 
stitutions, it received from the system of Philosophy 
which Dr. Eauch inculcated. He aimed at reproducing 
the truth of German philosophy under an English form 
in the light of supernatural revelation. Thus he in- 
fused an Anglo-German life into the College, which, 
though modified and perfected by his successors, it has 
nevertheless retained to the present time. The volume 
now offered to the public, nearly sixteen years after the 
Author's death, illustrates the fact that the first Presi- 
dent of Marshall College was a decided and humble 
Christian no less than a philosopher ; that his philo- 
sophy was neither rationalism nor pantheism, neither 
sensationalism nor transcendentalism in any false sense, 
but really Christian ; and that the impulse and peculiar 
character, which the Institution received from him in 
the beginning, was not hostile or prejudicial, as some 
have alleged, to sound Christian ideas, but subservient 



PREFACE. IX 

and favorable to the progress of orthodox scientific 
theology and true practical religion. 

As these Discourses were not prepared for publication 
by the Author, it was necessary to subject them to a 
careful revision. This the Editor has endeavored to 
do. A pupil of Dr. Eauch for nearly eight years, and 
having lived in intimate friendship with him, especially 
during the latter part of his life, the Editor flatters him- 
self that he possesses some qualifications for the deli- 
cate and responsible task. He laid down two princi- 
ples of revision, which have been rigidly applied from 
beginning to end. First, to limit the revision strictly 
to the work of editing the Discourses — to make such 
changes, but such only, touching the use of particles 
and phrases, as the Editor believes the Author himself 
would have made were he now revising the work for 
the press. Secondly, to preserve every phase of thought, 
and retain all the peculiarities of the Author's style, 
with scrupulous fidelity. "No liberty whatever has 
been taken with the language in these respects. Ver- 
bal modifications have been made only in order to 
remove traces of the German idiom, and convey clearly 
the evident meaning of the Author throughout in a 
purely English style. 

In making a selection for the present volume, the 
Editor has been guided partly by the comparative 
merits of the Discourses, and partly by a reference to 
an order of subjects. It was felt to be desirable that 
the book possess as much unity and logical connection 



X PREFACE. 

as it was possible to give to it under the circum- 
stances. 

It was the practice of Dr. Rauch to write out care- 
fully the first or principal prayer used at public wor- 
ship. As these prayers are edifying and aid in afford- 
ing the reader an insight into the spirit and character 
of the man, we have allowed them to hold their proper 
place. A number are manifestly incomplete, but they 
have been inserted without any additions. In some 
cases the prayer is wanting entirely in the manuscript. 

"With these preliminary remarks we submit this post- 
humous work to the Christian community, and com- 
mend it to the blessing of Him in whose service the 
Author lived and labored and died. 

E. V. G. 

Lancaster, Pennsylvania, 
Oct. 13th, 1856. 



CONTENTS. 



Page 

The Principle of the Inner Life, . . . .13 

The Communion of the Inner Life, ... 34 

The Nurture of the Inner Life, . . . .49 

The Fruits of the Inner Life, . . . . 69 

The Humility of the Inner Life, . . . .87 

The Author of the Inner Life at Jacob's Well, . 109 

The Author of the Inner Life as a Servant, . .125 

The Author of the Inner Life bearing His Cross, . 136 

The Author of the Inner Life on the Cross, . . 149 

The Love of the Inner Life, . . . . 162 
The Inner Life of Thomas, ..... 175 

The Inner Life of Mary Magdalene, . . • 198 

The Social Joys of the Inner Life, . . . 220 



Xll CONTENTS. 

Page 

The Inner Life a Song of Praise, . . * 245 

The Inner Life a Pilgrimage, • • 268 

The Final Conflict of the Inner Life, . . 289 

The Final Triumph of the Inner Life, • . . 315 



THE 

INNER LIFE OF THE CHRISTIAN. 



THE PRINCIPLE OF THE INNER LIFE. 

Acts 17 : 18. 

u Then certain philosophers of the Epicureans, and of the Stoics, 
encountered him. And some said, What will this babbler say? Other 
some, He seemeth to be a setter forth of strange gods : because he 
preached unto them Jesus and the resurrection." 

Lord, our Heavenly Father ! Thou art Light and 
Holiness, but we are sinners. Whatever is good 
and noble proceeds from Thee, and has its origin 
in Thee ; but whatever is evil and sinful, takes its 
rise in our hearts and flows forth from them into 
our thoughts and words and actions. Thou givest 
what is good and perfect ; we abuse it and make it 
a source of evil. All thy laws, Lord ! are good 
and perfect; thy institutions and commandments 
are good and tend to the welfare of all created 
beings ; but we, Lord ! dishonor them, disobey 
them, violate them, and thus change the intended 
source of bliss into a fountain of misery. This, 
Lord ! is our guilt, that we abuse Thy gracious 
goodness, and do not acknowledge Thee as the 

2 



14 THE PRINCIPLE OF 

Author and Ruler of the universe, and do not love 
Thee as our Benefactor and Preserver. 

Lord ! we pray that Thou wilt make us sensible 
of this our great guilt; that Thou wilt open our 
blind eyes and shed the Light of Thy Spirit upon 
them, that we may be able to see Thee and Thy 
perfections, to adore and worship Thee, and to honor 
Thee by devoting every power, every wish, and 
every thought to Thy service. that we were 
enabled, Lord ! all of us, to see that the sin of all 
sin, the root and seat of all vices and all evil acti- 
vities, is our unbelief; that we cannot be good and 
virtuous without faith. 

May we acknowledge this, Lord ! with be- 
coming humility, and lay aside all pride, all re- 
liance on our own strength, and all hope in our own 
righteousness. May we come before Thee with 
humbleness and meekness and say : Here, Lord ! 
we are ready to receive the operations of Thy Holy 
Spirit. May we lay aside the weapons of an unre- 
generated reason, of wit and acuteness, and cease 
fighting against our Maker ; with a contrite heart 
may we desire and long for Him who loved us unto 
death; and may we consider it our highest bless- 
ing while we live, and our highest consolation in 
the hour of death, that we were privileged to praise 
the Lord and serve Him. 

We pray, Lord ! that Thou wilt be with us as we 
are assembled here to-day. Strengthen those among 
us that believe in Thee, and increase their know- 



THE INNEK LIFE. 15 

ledge and love ; be with those that are still out of 
Christ; show them their perilous situation and 
constrain them, by seeing it, to hasten to the cross. 
May they feel, Lord! that without faith none is 
acceptable to Thee. May they admit in their hearts, 
that the length of time allotted to them is unknown 
to them and to all of us, but that there is nothing 
more certain than death, and after death, the judg- 
ment. May they flee from Thy wrath and accept the 
offers of mercy, whilst they have it in their power. 
Bless all thy people, wherever they worship Thee 
to-day.* 

Unbelief in its general results, is everywhere the 
same; but it may spring from essentially different 
fountains, and from them draw a nourishment which 
makes it more or less dangerous to those within the 
reach of its influence. When a rude and uncul- 
tivated man, belonging to a low state of cultivation 
although living in a civilized country, laughs at the 
emotions of a pious and devoted Christian ; when 
he acknowledges nothing but what is accessible to 
his unrefined sensibility — we neither feel offended, 
nor do we see any dangers arising from his influ- 
ence. His senses are obtuse, his thinking power 
unexercised, his whole disposition bent to the earth 
on which he lives ; hence his unbelief, basing itself 

* The conclusion of this prayer and of some others, was evi- 
dently not written. But we give them without any additions, as 
we find them in the manuscript. — Ed. 



16 THE PRINCIPLE OF 

upon a degradation of human nature, rather dis- 
gusts than alarms us. 

Again, if a sensual and voluptuous man, who 
has made pleasure the object of his life, denies the 
existence of God, and scorns the idea of a Saviour 
and of the immortality of the soul, we know that 
the cause of his infidelity is a wish to be unmolested 
by the voice of conscience, when he is about to 
deceive innocence, or break a promise, or empty the 
cup of sensuality, or serve all the contemptible 
desires of his depraved heart. When such men 
avow their infidelity we feel disgusted ; our moral 
sense stamps them with contempt; our judgment 
perceives a poisonous fruit that has grown on the 
tree of sin and vice. Against such infidelity we 
need not warn men — it is not attractive but repul- 
sive. 

It is far otherwise, w r hen men whom Providence 
has lifted with many talents, whom constant 
application has adorned with knowledge, and whom 
faithfulness has rendered useful as citizens and' 
eminent in their profession ; when mea who lead 
an honest and blameless life, who do not scoff at 
religion, nor look down with an eye of pity on its 
adherents ; when such men do not embrace Christ 
by faith, but caught by the net of infidelity, tear 
asunder the ties whic i b'nd them to their Saviour; 
w T hen, though they do not doubt a Providence, a 
First Cause of all, nor an eternity, they are, never- 
theless, strangers to the altar, and visit the assem- 



THE INNER LIFE. 17 

blies of Christians only as critics, but not from a 
desire for religious instruction : the respect which 
their wisdom and moral life secure to them, forbids 
us to disregard their indifference to religion ; for it 
misleads the unwary, ensnares the unsuspicious, 
and arrests the attempts of youth to enter the 
narrow path, which leads through thorns and briers 
to Heaven. This is the unbelief of which the text 
speaks. 

At first sight, it might appear that the unbelief 
of the Epicureans was that of levity ; for we are 
accustomed to look upon them as mere sensualists. 
History, however, proves, that their philosophical 
system tended not only to, but terminated in, that of 
the Stoics, whose names are associated in our memory 
with great and grave wisdom. The principle of 
Epicureanism was a refined and prudent self-love, 
which prompted the endeavor to reduce pains and 
wants to the smallest, and increase pleasures to the 
highest degree ; to select of all pleasures those that 
were both most refined and most durable, and 
always to preserve an unclouded serenity. This 
latter point led to Stoicism ; for in order to be 
cheerful constantly, we must feel entirely indepen- 
dent of all things around us, neither fear nor hope 
too ardently, but always be ready to resign every 
wish and every possession. A wise man, in their 
opinion, was one, who, free from every fear and 
hope, free from the dominion of every passion, was 
ever conscious of his moral greatness and felt the 

2* 



18 THE PRINCIPLE OF 

highest gratification in viewing his own virtues. 
In these the happiness of man was placed. Thus 
every one was, or sought to be, the author of his 
own fortune during life. The unbelief of the 
Epicureans and Stoics can, therefore, not be classed 
with that proceeding from levity, nor with that 
whose source is an obtuse mind ; it took its origin 
in too high an estimate placed by them upon their 
wisdom or upon their reason. 

This undue estimation is even in our day a pro- 
lific source of indifference to religion ; I have, 
therefore, made it the subject of my present dis- 
course. My design is to show that, though reason 
and faith are not at war with each other, and though 
reason is a high gift of man, yet it is not the proper 
criterion to be applied in judging of Christianity, 
nor can its attacks upon Christianity ever de- 
stroy it. 

I. In attempting to show this, I neither desire to 
lower the value of reason, as if religion can gain in 
proportion as reason loses, nor to attribute to faith 
what really does not belong to it. In comparing 
one with the other, I am ready at once to admit, 
that reason is the highest gift we possess in a state 
of nature. It is reason, which makes man the 
lord of the earth and renders him the most wonder- 
ful of all creatures. It is reason, that puts the 
bridle into the mouth of the horse to subdue him, 
that spreads the net in the air to catch the swift- 



THE INNER LIFE. 1 ( J 

flying bird, and throws the angle into the water 
to entice its inhabitants. It is reason, that leads 
off the lightning from our houses, that makes the 
ocean yield its tribute, that governs the elements, 
and renders what in itself is destructive and awful, 
useful to man. It is reason, that measures the 
distances and dimensions of the stars of heaven, 
that foretells the regular return of the seasons, and, 
sinking itself into its own unfathomable depth, 
constructs systems of science, discovers the secret 
powers of nature, and with the wings of a Daedalus 
finds its way out of every labyrinth to the centre 
of light. 

But everything human has its two sides. The 
same reason, which is so wonderful in itself and 
does such wonderful things, in a state of nature, 
labors only for our own interests, for the gratifica- 
tion of our depraved desires and passions. It has 
not only invented the instruments with which we 
cultivate the field, but also the machinery with 
which we torture and destroy our fellow-men. 
Eeason not only remembers the injury done us and 
meditates revenge, but even hates those whom 
we have offended, calumniates our brother, and 
converts truth into falsehood whenever our advan- 
tage may seem to require it. He is frequently 
thought to be the wisest, who knows best how to 
use the failings of others for his own benefit, who 
is most cunning and crafty in the abuse of confi- 
dence placed in him, and of candor and honesty 



20 THE PRINCIPLE OF 

observed towards him. Deceptions, quarrels, mur- 
ders, wars, are carried on systematically only by the 
human race and nowhere else in nature ; for to de- 
sign evil, reason is requisite. 

Reason, then, as all must admit, places man in- 
deed at the summit of a fallen creation, but it can- 
not raise him beyond it ; a member of the whole, 
he is at the same time the fountain head of de- 
pravity. But what reason cannot do, faith effects ; 
it gives man an entrance into Heaven. 

What is faith ? This is the most natural question 
here. Yet it is extremely difficult to answer it. He 
who has it, will but rarely inquire into its nature ; 
and he who has it not, cannot understand it. Who 
would undertake to describe color to one born blind, 
or sound to the deaf and dumb ? Light is only 
where there is an eye to see it, and sound, where 
there is an ear to hear it : take away the eye and 
the ear, and light and sound cease to be for us. So 
it is with faith. No one can understand it, unless 
he has that in him, which disposes him to perceive 
it, or, in other words : no one can know what faith 
is unless he has turned from sin to holiness — from 
the visible to the invisible — from this earthly abode 
to our heavenly home. Without repentance there 
is no faith. Nor can any one, on the other hand, 
understand what repentance is without faith. Both 
condition each other, and depend on each other : 
both proceed from communion with God, our Crea- 
tor — both are directed and direct man upon his 



THE INNER LJFE. 21 

Father in Heaven. Without faith no one can re- 
pent ; without repentance no one can believe. He 
that does not believe in his eternal home, will not 
turn towards it ; he that never turns his mind to- 
wards it, will not believe in it. As faith reveals 
the kingdom of Christ to the understanding and 
heart, so does repentance open the heart to faith. 
If we believe without repentance, we deceive our- 
selves ; if we repent without faith, we torture our- 
selves. The one is contained in the other. The 
question : What is faith ? is difficult to be answered, 
therefore, not because we can not give a definition 
of it, but because the best definition will not give 
him an idea of faith who does not possess it. If I 
say : Faith is that power, whose equal cannot be 
found anywhere, the power that gives sight to the 
blind, hearing to the deaf, life to the dead, it will 
require faith to believe in it. If I say : It is the 
power of God, that in the twinkling of an eye heals 
the sick, gives peace to the troubled and comfort to 
the afflicted, again faith will be required to believe 
in it. This power exists and works, but those that 
do not believe in it, have not the ability to perceive 
it : so is every spring adorned with beautiful flowers, 
yet a blind man does not see them : so do the most 
lovely sounds float around the ears of a deaf man, 
yet he does not hear them. As long as man is 
satisfied with the vain things of the earth, as long 
as his wishes do not extend beyond what is visible, 
he cannot understand the nature of faith. He may 



22 THE PRINCIPLE OF 

ask after it, he may even enter upon subtle specu- 
lations concerning it, but the gates of Heaven, 
though open to the eye of faith, will remain closed 
to his dull and sensual sight. He lives in the dust, 
from which he is taken and to which he must re- 
turn ; and what his senses cannot perceive has no 
existence for him. But to the Christian, faith is 
that power which connects Heaven and earth, the 
Creator and the creation ; to him, it is a messenger 
from God to the soul, a bringer of eternal life, a 
torch in the darkness of his earthly pilgrimage, a 
guide to Heaven. This power we have, when we 
feel the connection between Heaven and earth, be- 
tween our Creator and ourselves, the Visible and In- 
visible ; when whatever we desire or undertake, 
think or do, proceeds spontaneously from the idea 
of this connection ; this power we have, when, 
deeply feeling our depravity, we long after purity 
and holiness, and after the way that leads to both. 

II. Having seen that faith and reason differ, let 
us inquire, in the second place : Are they necessarily 
opposed to each other ? 

The opinion of some is that reason is the enemy 
of faith, and philosophy that of theology. This 
opinion, if carried out consistently, would lead to 
the conclusion that faith is blind — that in order to 
believe we must suspend our thinking powers. 
Faith without thought is superstition ; thinking 
without faith produces infidelity; in both cases, 



THE INNER LIFE. 23 

therefore, when faith excludes reason or when rea- 
son excludes faith, there is sin and vice. Faith 
does not exclude reason, but is full of reason, and 
as all Christians maintain, is based on the best of 
reasons. Christians do not resign the use of their 
reason ; they think as well as the unbeliever, who 
prides himself on his own thoughts and wisdom ; but 
Christians think otlierwise. Faith and reason, do 
therefore not oppose but include each other; and 
only when our depraved desires apply the one 
where the other ought to prevail, do they come 
into conflict. Each of them has its appropriate 
sphere ; and each sphere it will be well to point 
out in a few words. 

Man enjoys many faculties, but each only, when 
applied to its appropriate object, between which and 
itself there is a predetermined correspondence, and 
by which alone its activity can be elicited. So 
each of our senses has its appropriate object, the 
eye light, the ear sound ; but if we should ever de- 
sire to see with the ear or to hear with the eye, we 
would deprive ourselves of the knowledge which 
can alone be obtained by making use of the proper 
sense. So it is likewise, if we attempt to reason 
where we should believe ; we then lose the object 
of faith, and faith itself. Keason has its appro- 
priate sphere of action. This sphere is life and its 
concerns, science and its development. God gave 
man reason, that he might investigate the powers 
of nature and use them for his service. Without 



24 THE PRINCIPLE OF 

faith, however, reason can effect but little ; for 
whatever lies beyond external nature, falls within 
the sphere of faith. We see, for example, the seed 
cast into the earth put forth its roots, its stem, its 
branches, leaves, and blossoms ; but the power that 
works in it, the law, according to which the species 
preserves itself in its individual plant, w r e cannot 
see. From its phenomena we conclude upon the 
power itself, though our senses cannot perceive it, 
nor reason demonstrate it. Here, then, begins the 
sphere of faith — not of the faith of the Christian but 
of common faith. Where w^e cannot see things with 
our eyes, nor ascertain them with our reason, but 
are nevertheless forced to admit their existence, 
there we believe. The sphere of natural reason is 
the Visible, that of faith the Invisible; without 
some kind of faith, even the most violent infidel 
cannot live ; without it he could not eat nor drink, 
nor have a friend ; or, as some one has said, with- 
out it man is confined to himself and stands alone, 
without father, mother, or friend. And there is no 
more certainty in the objects of reason, than in 
those of faith. As the eye demands the light, so 
the world within demands the existence of the In- 
visible. What our eyes see we believe, and the 
ground of belief is found in the formation of the eye 
and its adaptation to things visible. What faith 
sees we must believe, and the ground of our belief 
is the constitution of the soul. The shining light 
needs nothing else to make itself manifest, because 



the innl:: lti 25 

the eye Btands in need of it and desires it. The 
soul is so constituted that it stands in need of a spiri- 
tual world ; but when we need a thing, when we can- 
not do without it, when without it we cannot reach 
our purposes, nor preserve, develop, and perfect our- 
selves, we are ready to believe in it. As our lungs 
demand the air, and our bodies food, so our souls de- 
mand an invisible world of spirit. There are wants 
which man has created by his own art; these are not 
necessary to his existence. There are others, which 
may be satisfied without faith; we may nourish 
our bodies, gratify our senses, quench our thirst 
for rank, for riches and influence without faith ; — 
but the wants of the soul, its irresistible desire for 
eternal happiness, for truth, for holiness, demand 
a home beyond the skies, and to admit these wants 
and desires is to believe in that home. What Ave 
desire w r e are inclined to believe ; and what it is 
impossible for us to do without, we cannot help 
admitting. And who is there, that would not ac- 
knowledge, that though he eats and drinks accord- 
ing to the desire of his heart, he is, nevertheless, 
not satisfied ; that he constantly seeks something 
in riches or learning without finding what he seeks ; 
that he labors, but effects nothing ; that he gathers 
but gains nothing; that he is surrounded by abun- 
dance, but feels poor. It is faith alone that can 
satisfy these internal demands of the soul ; hence 
it is, that we are constrained to believe in the 

objects of faith, and that faith has as much cer- 

3 



26 THE PRINCIPLE OF 

tainty for us as the conviction produced by expe- 
rience. 

Why then do we believe in God? Though the 
faith of the Christian differs widely from the faith 
just exhibited, the question: Why do we believe 
in God or in Christ? must be answered on a similar 
ground. We believe, because the Spirit of truth 
has operated upon us, and constrained us to ac- 
knowledge a Creator of the universe and a Ruler 
over our lives. There would be a chasm, a flaw, 
in our thoughts without this belief. We believe 
in Him, because we acknowledge with a grateful 
heart the many blessings He has bestowed upon us, 
the many benefits He has poured out upon the w r hole 
creation; because the wonderful order and beauty 
of the world awake our hearts to love Him ; and 
because thousands and thousands of ties bind us to 
Him, whose image we are and in whom we live 
and move and have our being. 

And so we believe in Christ, because He offers our 
hearts w r hat they need ; because by His righteous- 
ness and passion He has secured to us reconciliation 
with God; because He has given us the peace w r e 
had not, and the salvation which we sought for in 
vain; because in Him true light, life, grace, and 
truth appear; because we know His voice and un- 
derstand it; because we know that He is the good 
Shepherd, that knows His own and is known of 
them, for whom He laid down His life that they 
might live through Him. We believe in Him and 



THE INNER LIFE. Zi 

love Him, because His truth refreshes, comforts, 
cheers, and consoles us; for it teaches us that there 
is a God, a Creator, a Preserver, and Ruler, and an 
eternal Judge of the world, and an eternal home of 
happiness and bliss. 

We have seen, then, that reason and faith are 
not opposed to each other, but that each has its 
appropriate sphere, and that they oppose each other 
only when a corrupt heart undertakes to model 
them according to its desires. Let it be remem- 
bered, 

III. That reason should not presume to sit in judg- 
ment on matters of faith. 

Faith, as has been shown, possesses an internal 
evidence, which exists only for him who has faith. 
We cannot prove anything, unless we have its 
spirit; we cannot judge of a thing unless we have 
a measure by which to value it; and how should 
reason, unacquainted with this internal evidence, 
with the only way of proving faith, be able to judge 
of it? To call this internal evidence our own, we 
must have experienced it, and before we have done 
so, we have no right to reason on it. Every right 
presupposes the fulfilment of a duty, and none can 
morally enjoy the former without performing the 
latter. I have a right to live only, if I perform the 
duty of preserving the life and health of my body, 
and respecting the rights of my fellow-men. He 



28 THE PRINCIPLE OF 

who claims the right of judging of faith, must have 
performed the duty of having made himself ac- 
quainted with its spirit, its nature and objects, else 
he will be like the blind man who judges of color, 
or like the deaf man who speaks of the sounds of 
music. Whenever reason presumes to judge with- 
out having experienced faith, it universally leads 
to doubting. For it is the nature of reason to doubt 
what it cannot understand, and to ridicule it. 

But neither scepticism nor ridicule was ever 
able to injure the Christian religion. Scepticism 
cannot injure it, because it is too weak in itself, 
and religion too strong. The sceptic says : We 
can knoio nothing; but in saying so he contradicts 
himself; for if it is certain that we can know no- 
thing, we must know this at least to be a fact, and 
consequently we know something. And this very 
knowledge is saving knowledge ; it is the beginning 
of all wisdom. The sceptic says : " We cannot 
attain to any truth ;" but this that we cannot attain 
to any truth, he admits to be truth, and consequently 
contradicts himself. If he would listen to this con- 
tradiction, if he would apply his rule, to doubt 
everything concerning religion, to his own doubts 
also, he would soon free himself from this vulture 
that preys on his vitals. The truly consistent 
sceptic, who doubts, not because he desires that 
there may be no religion, but because he cannot con- 
scientiously admit a criterion of truth, ought not to 
open his lips; for whatever he may utter, will in 



THE INNER LIFE. 29 

some way contradict the assertions, which he takes 
for granted and on which he reasons. 

It is still worse when reason becomes so per- 
verted as to scoff at the truth of religion. Shaftes- 
bury says : If any religious doctrine can be exposed 
to ridicule, it must certainly contain a falsehood. 
Wit, it cannot be denied, is a dangerous enemy to 
religion. Where it exists, deep and serious medi- 
tation is always absent. We wish to reflect on a 
subject, but a witty thought presents itself and 
renders it ridiculous, then we are done with it ; in- 
stead of meditating on it, we laugh at it. Lucian 
wielded all the weapons of sarcasm and wit against 
the Greek superstition very skilfully, and many 
have attacked the Christian religion with similar 
weapons. But whilst Lucian succeeded, they have 
failed ; the caustic rays of their wit have reflected 
back upon themselves, like arrows upon the breast 
of the archer. The reason is manifest. True wit 
must always stand far above that on which it pours 
its shafts. Now, he that would expose the Chris- 
tian religion to ridicule, must stand above and 
beyond divine wisdom. Hence none of those who 
have attempted to destroy the confidence of Chris- 
tians by ridiculing their doctrines, have succeeded. 
They may have scoffed at their own notions of 
these doctrines, but the doctrines themselves, the 
truth contained in them, their wit could not reach. 
Their sarcasm almost universally recoiled upon 
themselves, and the proverb could be applied : 

3* 



30 THE PRINCIPLE OF 

lie that laughs last, laughs best. Hobbes — to give 
an instance or two — during the day ridiculed 
the idea that there is a God, but when night came 
he was so much afraid of ghosts that he dared not 
sleep alone. A celebrated physician, who frequent- 
ly laughed at the doctrine of the soul and its im- 
mortality, when lying sick of the gout, employed a 
conjuror to exorcise the demons from his limbs. 

IV. Finally, let me show in a few words, that 
reason and faith mutually support and advance each 
other. 

The contents of faith are, on the one hand, the 
sin of man, and, on the other, his redemption from 
it, and eternal salvation through Jesus Christ. 
That all men are fallen and suffer under the curse 
of hereditary sin, has always been admitted. It 
has been the theme of Poetry ; the most beautiful 
productions of human imagination, the poems of 
Dante, of Tetrarch, Milton, and Klopstock, are full 
of it. This being admitted on all sides, it is but 
reasonable to believe that He, who would redeem 
the world from sin, must be free from sin Himself; 
that the pure cannot proceed from the impure ; 
and that Christ consequently must come from 
Heaven. So it is likewise reasonable, that He, who 
would give life to the dead, must have life everlast- 
ing in Himself; that that life must be His by whom 
are created heaven and earth, the Visible and Invi- 
sible, Thrones and Principalities and Powers, by 



THE INNER LIFE. 31 

whom and for whom all is created, who is above 
all and in all. The Saviour of the world, it was 
reasonable to expect, would be the Son of God ; the 
Son of God alone could be the Saviour of the world. 
In short, reason cannot but acknowledge that when 
man has fallen into a snare, he needs one, not 
enticed by its allurements, to extricate him ; that 
when the inward monitor sleeps, we need one who 
never sleeps and will awaken us — who will help us 
to a clear idea of our dangerous situation — who will 
show us how far inimical powers have led us from 
the right path, and who will guide us back to it 
again. When man no longer understands himself, 
he needs an interpreter of his own language. 
When man has lost God in his heart, he needs one 
that visibly represents Him anew. We need the 
Son of God, who stands before us as a kind and 
loving brother — who by His Spirit becomes our 
guide, by His holiness our model, and by His love in 
life and in death the object of our supreme affection. 
On the other hand, faith assists reason. Reason 
left to itself is arrogant, is acted upon by impure 
motives, is selfish and contracted. Nourished by 
the senses and wholly depraved, it is inclined to 
consider the sensual world the only world. But 
by the Spirit of God reason is regenerated ; by faith 
its views are purified and enlarged and extended 
beyond the grave ; by faith its longing for immor- 
tality is satisfied and man's final destination is 
revealed to it. (Plato, the wisest of ancient phi- 



32 THE PRINCIPLE OF 

losophers desired and longed for the time, when one 
wiser than all men would reveal the truth fully.) 
Faith points out the only worthy aim for the efforts 
of reason ; gives a peace, which the world knows 
not, and in which alone man can find true happiness 
in life and consolation in the hour of death. 

In conclusion, I desire to make a few practical 
remarks. 

1. And here I would say that, as faith is the only 
true source of all virtue, unbelief is the fountain 
of all sin — its seat and root. Without faith we 
cannot please God ; without faith there can be no 
wisdom, nor justice, nor holiness, nor redemption ; 
without faith there is no love, no faithfulness, no 
courage, no consolation in our hearts. Without 
faith the will remains weak, sensuality strong, reason 
depraved, life vain, the grave awful. Hence it is 
that infidelity is the most terrible word contained 
in our language, and to be charged with it can be 
but illy brooked by any one. 

But no one has faith, except the believer in 
Christ. Who is a liar, but he that denieth that 
Jesus is the Christ ? for He is the true God and 
eternal life ! The Scriptures give witness of Him 
and contain the Truth ; the Spirit, that proceeds 
from Him, is the Spirit of Truth ; and the Church 
established by Him renders this Truth manifest. 
He who pays no regard to the Scriptures, to the 
Spirit of Truth, and to the ordinances of the Church, 



THE INNER LIFE. 00 

does not believe ; he lives without faith and Truth, 
in the world of wickedness and falsehood. 

2. None can enter the sphere of faith by a 
mere resolution of the will, or by merely taking a 
proper view of the contents of faith. Faith is 
the bloom of regeneration, and salvation the fruit 
of faith. Unless we are regenerated, we have no 
faith. But regeneration does not merely direct 
reason to different objects, or correct the defects of 
the will, or mend our moral life : it is a new prin- 
ciple in man, which changes him, and not only 
something in 1dm; w T hich makes him a new creature, 
and not only remodels some parts in him or revives 
some of his powers. The regenerated person 
knows what Truth is, because he is of the Truth ; 
he knows by whom he is called, for the Spirit in 
him will tell him ; he knows the voice of Christ, 
because he listens for it — loves it. 



THE COMMUNION OF THE INNER LIFE. 

Matt. 28 : 20. 
" Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world." 

Throughout the sacred Scriptures we can trace a 
deep view touching the connection between the visible 
and the invisible world. Every organization, every 
natural phenomenon, is represented as the effect of 
a spiritual, an invisible cause, and the visible world 
as the antitype of the invisible, which is the proto- 
type. Between these two worlds there exists a 
constant intercourse. Both affect each other 
mutually. Angels come down from heaven and 
appear to men, both when sleeping and waking; 
even the Lord Himself visited His holy ones, 
Abraham, Jacob, Moses, and Paul. Throughout 
all ages we find this communication of Heaven with 
earth ; but since Christ, the centre both of the 
visible and invisible world, descended with the 
fulness of revelation, on whom angels came down 
from heaven and from whom angels rose up to 
heaven, the celestial regions have been open in a 
higher sense, and will be open forever, to the 
spiritual eye of the Christian. He sees the earth 
filled with the Spirit of God ; he sees a stream of 
divine power constantly pervading the universe ; 



THE COMMUNION OF THE INNER LIFE. o-3 

and every truth in him, every good motive, comes, 
as he believes, from the Saviour, without whom he 
does nothing, without whom he knows nothing. 
This view is, indeed, the most natural and most 
reasonable. When we look around us upon the 
world, the mind investigating the nature of all 
things, ascends from cause to cause till finally it 
comes to a point, beyond which it cannot go, to a 
cause, which cannot be traced back to another, 
which must be the original cause of all causes, the 
origin of all powers, the fountain of life. This cause 
no longer belongs to that which is visible ; and as 
little as life can proceed from death, spirit from 
matter, so little can it be comprised within the 
bounds of nature. It comes from, it belongs to, the 
invisible world. Reasonable as this view is, there 
have been those, who have denied the existence of 
an invisible world, have declared it to be the pro- 
duct of fancy and imagination, maintaining that 
all is matter, and that besides it there is nothing. 
My theme to-day will therefore be — 

The connection existing between the Visible and In- 
visible, between Christ who is in heaven and His 
Church that is on earth. 

In sketching this theme, I am well aware that 
the words of my text were originally addressed to 
the teachers of the Gospel ; yet I have the authority 
of many commentators in my favor, when I give 
them a more general application. 



36 T HE CO M M U N I O N V 

In proving that the visible and the invisible 
world, Christ and all His followers on earth, are 
closely connected with each other, I shall show 

I. That this connection does not exist for the senses 
nor for the sensual man. — All of us have heard the 
sce23tic say, "if there were a visible connection be- 
tween this world and the other, if spirits could come 
down from heaven and communicate heavenly 
things to us, we would believe. We would believe 
in the immortality of the soul, had we seen one of 
our departed friends return, and bring us news from 
those dark regions; we would believe in Christ were 
He with us as He was w 7 ith His disciples, who saw 
His miracles, and heard His words." The connec- 
tion they desire is evidently one for the senses, not 
for the mind, as if the knowledge we acquire through 
the medium of the senses, were more certain than 
that which the intercourse of spirit with spirit can 
afford us — as if we had but one fountain of know- 
ledge, our sensual nature, and not also another, an 
invisible one, mind, both of which deserve at least 
equal credit, since they give us equal truth. „ 

But let us look away from this aspect of the sub- 
ject ; let us ask : Is what the sceptic demands pos- 
sible? — He is opposed to miracles, he questions their 
propriety, since according to his views they are a 
violation of sacred laws; he doubts their possibility. 
We will hold him to his own argument, and ask 
further: is what he demands possible without a 
miracle? — The invisible world is inhabited by 



TILE INNER LIFE. 37 

spirits. These live either with or without bodies. 
If they live without bodies, they cannot become 
visible ; for how can spirits, that are without form 
and figure, be seen, when there are even some ma- 
terial substances, as air or ether, that cannot be 
perceived by the eye, in whose existence we never- 
theless firmly believe ? And as little as spirits could 
be visible to the eye, could their words be audible 
to the ear, for to speak to the senses they would 
need the organs of speech. If it were asserted, 
however, that spirits may inspire us with thoughts, 
which, perhaps, they do, how could the sceptic, 
without a miracle, distinguish those thoughts from 
his own ? How could he who depends only on 
sensuous truth, know that the inspired truth is not 
the product of his own mind ? 

Suppose, on the other hand, that these spirits live 
with bodies. It would be equally impossible for 
them to become visible to our senses without a 
miracle. Their bodies would subject them to the 
same law of gravity that reigns over us ; this law 
would fasten them to the planet on which they live, 
as it chains us to the earth ; and as we cannot raise 
ourselves beyond the atmosphere of our dwelling- 
place, leave it and enter another, so they could not 
be expected to leave their habitation and come down 
to us. 

Without a miracle then, we see, that what the 
infidel demands would be impossible ; and if he 
refuses to believe in miracles, he ought to scorn a 

4 



38 THE COMMUNION OF 

request based on them. But let us admit for a 
moment, that spirits can appear to our senses from 
time to time, even after Christ, the Son of God, 
has dwelt among us. The question will then arise : 
What means have our senses to recognize them as 
heavenly beings ? to distinguish them from evil 
demons, who have the power to assume the form of 
angels of light, and whom the infernal regions 
might send to lead us astray, to delude us with 
empty hopes and vain expectations, to seduce us 
from the path of duty and truth, and plunge us into 
eternal ruin ? What means have our senses to 
ascertain, whether what these spirits would com- 
municate is truth or falsehood ? Would he, who 
does not believe Moses and the Prophets, believe 
in such spirits ? Would he, who can see nothing 
in Christ but a man, a Jew ; he who hears only 
human words, but not the truth, which comes from 
Heaven, when Christ speaks to him; would he 
place his confidence in the dead, if they should 
rise from the grave ? Would our senses be able 
to recognize an old acquaintance in the dead risen 
from the grave, or would there not be room for 
delusion and deception ? And suppose these spirits 
should visit us frequently, would we not, from 
custom and habit, become as indifferent to their 
information, as we now are to many sins, into 
which we run, though we have often seen all the 
evil consequences of indulgence ? as indifferent as 
we now are to the sight of ruined health, whilst 



THE INNER LIFE. 39 

vice leads us directly and certainly to it ? We see 
the misery, but do not shun it. The robber sees his 
companion executed, but continues on in the path 
of transgression. What then would be the use of 
such a sensuous connection between the visible and 
invisible world ? 

Whilst no advantage can be discovered, did such 
a connection exist, we may see the goodness of 
God in not having permitted it. For if it were 
possible, what the imagination of all ages has so 
beautifully represented, that the perfect spirits of 
higher regions could visit our earth and then return 
as apparitions of light through the ether into their 
habitations : what great confusion would this magic 
connection cause in the world ? Would not every 
sudden flash of light, every unexpected motion of 
the air, every shadow in the dawn of evening, 
every imaginary figure of our dreams at midnight, 
excite our nerves and fill our breasts with fear and 
anxiety ? Would not the desponding look con- 
stantly for apparitions, and forget that their duty 
is to live, to labor, and to be useful ? Would such 
a connection not retard the current of our activity, 
transform the diligent man into an idle dreamer, 
dissolve the ties of society, and afford to every 
impostor the means of deception ? The supersti- 
tious belief in a visible connection of this world 
with another, and in the apparitions of ghosts, has 
been great at all times ; and there have always 
been some who were ready to enter into a league 



40 THE COMMUNION OF 

with that dark and mysterious region, to conjure 
its inhabitants by secret arts, and charge them to 
assist their evil designs, their desire for riches and 
power. There have been others, from time to time, 
ever since the resurrection of Christ, who have 
pretended to be the sons of God, or to be favored 
with a peculiar inspiration, and to bring new mes- 
sages from heaven. Considering all this, we must 
say, it is well that no sensuous connection exists 
between the Visible and the Invisible, between 
Christ and His followers. 

II. In the second place, I shall prove in a few 
words, that the connection between Christ and His 
children, between the Visible and the Invisible, does not 
exist for reason. 

Though it is true, that we are surrounded by, 
live and breathe in, the invisible world, that all 
we can see, rests in it as in its original ground, that 
millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth, both 
when we wake and when we sleep, and that all 
these creatures and invisible powers come from 
Christ and bear witness of Him, — yet human reason, 
relying on itself, cannot see what the childlike 
mind of the believer clearly comprehends. There 
is no power in us, that can give us any certain 
knowledge concerning the higher regions and their 
inmates ; no effort of mind, no ecstasy of feeling, 
no flight of imagination, can raise us into 
communion with the spirits of Heaven. Eeason in 



THE INNER LIFE. 41 

its natural state is confined to such truth as we 
may learn from experience, and from the observa- 
tion of the natural world ; but even here the high- 
est degree of intellectual activity, is not able to 
comprehend even one half of the invisible powers 
of nature. 

We see this visible world undergo constant 
changes; we see the plants grow, bloom, ripen 
their seeds, and decay; and from these external 
changes we conclude upon internal causes; but 
w T hat power is contained in these causes, what 
power is, what it is from, — these questions, though 
they pertain to the height of knowledge, we cannot 
solve. We see particles of matter inclining towards 
one centre, and call this the effect of the law of 
gravity ; we see all planets move with great regu- 
larity around their respective suns, and all suns 
revolve on their axes ; we see the seasons on our 
globe, and weeks and days and hours, return in 
regular succession : but that power which moves 
the starry heavens and brings us the seasons, is, in 
the midst of all its visible effects, invisible to reason. 
And to speak of ourselves ; we see the arm perform 
an action, but the will, under whose control it acts, 
the understanding that plans and designs, — who 
has ever succeeded in tracing them back to some 
visible cause in nature, or in establishing a com- 
plete knowledge of their origin ! The power of 
thinking, that, with the swiftness of lightning, 
forces many ideas under one general head; the 



42 THE COMMUNION OF 

conscience, which urges us to resist all the allure- 
ments of matter, and to exercise an unlimited sway 
over all that is merely sensual; the divine ability, 
to determine all our actions and to govern all our 
inclinations, — who has comprehended their con- 
nection with the body ? Who knows with perfect 
certainty their mode of existence ? 

It is beyond doubt that reason, though sur- 
rounded by the invisible world, cannot comprehend 
it ; it is equally beyond doubt, that though Christ is 
with every one of us, speaks to every one of us, 
protects every one of us, reason does not see Him, 
nor hear Him, nor perceive Him. And how can it 
be otherwise ? What does it avail, if Christ speaks 
to the sinner by his conscience, and he is unwilling 
to recognize the voice of the Lord ? What does it 
avail, if the Lord approaches the sinner, now by the 
admonitions of friends, then by warnings coming 
from a stranger, if he is unwilling to believe that it 
is the Lord who speaks through men to him ? What 
does it avail, if the Lord, by the beauties of nature, 
softens the heart of the sinner and fills it with a 
heavenly joy, if he is unwilling to see the Lord in 
every brook, in every torrent, in the stars of heaven, 
and in all that is lovely on earth ? Though the Lord 
chastise men with misfortunes, or lead them through 
wonderful paths to unexpected happiness ; though 
He bless their labors with signal success, or raise 
them to the heights of fortune ; — yet if they do not 
in all things seek Him, in whom they live and move 



THE INNER LIFE. 43 

and have their being, all will be in vain. Though 
the Lord be with them in His love, they will see 
nothing but natural occurrences in all they meet 
with. Even the Bible, if they do not believe that 
the Lord speaks in it, even the Bible, the book of 
love and harmony, will become a source of discus- 
sions and disputations. Let them listen to ser- 
mons, and if they are not convinced that all truth 
is the Lord's and comes from Him, they will only 
listen either to censure or applaud the speaker. 

III. Whilst the words of Christ, therefore : Lo, I 
am with you alway, even to the end of the world, 
do not apply to sinners, they are a source of joy 
and consolation to Christians, Christ is present, 
not visibly to the bodily eye, nor to the natural 
understanding, but He is with us through faith 
and in the Spirit. 

He is with us, when we perceive an important 
truth, when we indulge a serious meditation, when 
we give ear to the voice of conscience, when our 
feelings are softened, when we shrink from sinning, 
or when our hearts glow with uncommon zeal for 
the work of God. It is the Lord that speaks to us 
through a book, that edifies us through a friend, 
that gives us advice through the word of a stranger, 
that attracts our attention and influences the cur- 
rent of our thoughts through the innocence of a 
child, whose simplicity puts our wisdom to confu- 
sion, whose cheerfulness beguiles us of our melan- 



44 THE COMMUNION OF 

choly, and whose peace and tranquillity unlock to 
us the paradise of those that believe and do not 
doubt. The Lord approaches our hearts by wants 
and by blessings, by days of joy and by nights of 
sorrow, by meetings and by separations, by the 
small occurrences of the family, and by the fate of 
nations. Whithersoever we go, there the Lord is, 
and we cannot be without Him. We see Him in 
the constitution of our government, in the spirit 
of our laws, in the morals of society, in the institu- 
tions of learning, in all the views, principles, and 
sacred undertakings of our age. As w r e are sur- 
rounded by the air of heaven, so are believers sur- 
rounded on all sides visibly and invisibly by the 
Spirit of the Lord. No journey is necessary to be 
with Him, no money to be admitted into His pre- 
sence, no splendid dress to walk by His side : 
wherever we may be, if we have eyes to perceive 
Him, and ears to hear Him, a heart to love Him, 
and a desire to meet Him, there He is with us. 
Every act of devotion in the temple of God, every 
feeling of delight that trembles in the bosom at His 
holy altar, every ray of light that sinks from the 
Bible into the heart, every sermon that entreats us 
to repent and accept of the salvation offered by 
Christ; whatever speaks to us in nature — sunset 
and sunrise, spring by its new creations, summer 
by its sheaves, autumn by its ripened fruits, and 
winter by its tranquillity and repose — all tell us, 
that the Lord is near us. What is all the know- 



THE INNER LIFE. 45 

ledge of the earth, all the wisdom of reason, com- 
pared with the conviction, that the Lord is with us ! 

He is with lis in our wants and in our need. We 
are better than the fowls of the air or the flowers of 
the field ; we need more than meat and drink ; we 
have wants which neither nature nor reason can 
satisfy ; hence the Lord came down from His 
heavenly glory and became a servant and died for 
us, in order that we might see in His light, fight 
against sin in His strength, rest in His peace, be 
purified by His blood, and be happy forever in the 
mansions which He has prepared for us. He that 
is with us in all need, knows and will give us also 
what best corresponds with our disposition, what 
will most powerfully awaken us, what will give us 
the fullest satisfaction, what will most securely save 
us, and what will most effectually try our faith and 
sanctify our hearts. Whether we need encourage- 
ment or humiliation, consolation or chastisement, 
wounds or balm, long life or an early death ; whether 
He must approach us gently, lest He should break 
the tender reed or quench the smoking flax, or 
must smite our rocky hearts with a rod that the 
fountain of living water may spring up : all is known 
to Him who is with us and does all for us. 

Again : The Lord is %uith us in all we do or under- 
take. He perceives clearly the relations in which 
we live and the manner in which we use them. 
To Him the agreement of our will with His is mani- 
fest, as well as our opposition to it. Before we 



46 THE COMMUNION OF 

open the mouth He knows what we will speak; 
before we have determined upon an action He 
is acquainted with wdiat we will do. No delu- 
sion, no hypocrisy deceives Him : as fire tries 
silver, and the furnace gold, so He distinguishes 
pure from selfish motives — truth from hypocrisy. 
Whether we sit in the shade of a fig-tree pray- 
ing, like Nathaniel, or at the receipt of custom, 
like the son of Alpheus, or on the shore of the 
sea casting nets, like the brothers of Bethsaida; 
whether we are engaged in devotion at the grave 
of a departed friend, or dissipate our hours at the 
table of mirth ; He sees us, He knows us, He tries 
us, for He is with us. The darkest recess of charac- 
ter, the most concealed fold of our being, the softest 
emotion of the heart, lies open before Him, and He 
will judge all of them. His holy eye rests on every 
one of us, and He will aid us according to our 
circumstances. When we are about to forget our 
duty, He will remind us of it by conscience ; when 
the paths of inclination and duty cross each other, 
He will show us the right one ; when times of tribu- 
lation come upon us, He will give us wisdom, per- 
severance, and patience ; when we desire to be freed 
from the dominion of sin, He will take our guilt 
upon Himself. He who came into the world to 
save sinners, will never leave them nor forsake 
them. 

If this conviction, that the Lord is with us in all 
our wants, in our business and occupations, is full 



THE INNER LIFE. 47 

of consolation, it ought likewise to inspire us with 
confidence. 

Let us therefore confide in Ilim without reserve. 
He knows what dignity has been bestowed upon 
His followers : will He not enable them to preserve 
it ? He knows the way that leads to Heaven : will 
He not guide our feet and keep us from falling ? He 
knows how sin cleaves to us and renders us negli- 
gent of His work : will He expect more of us than 
w r e can perform ? When we suffer from within and 
from without, let us trust in Him ; He will give 
us counsel, assistance, and consolation. The num- 
ber of our days is in His hands, the limit of our life 
was written in His book before we had seen the 
light of this world ; and if we call on Him in the 
hour of death, He will support us and lead us 
through that way, where no mortal arm can any 
longer assist us; He will lead us through the valley 
of the shadow of death to the regions of eternal life 
and glory. Let us confide in Him, though our 
actions be imperfect and though we be misunder- 
stood by the world. He knows us : our disposition, 
our zeal, our motives, our real worth, our courage, 
our perseverance in His cause and our anxiety to 
accomplish what circumstances may render impos- 
sible, are acknowledged by Him even though con- 
cealed by a thick veil from the eye of man. Let 
us confide in Him, though we be misrepresented 
and suspected by men. Let us be cheerful and pre- 
serve our peace of mind, when the world is at war 



48 TJ1E COMMUNION, ETC. 

with us, for He that is with us, will not forsake His 
holy ones; He will not give those up to the power 
of the enemy and of sin, whom He has chosen and 
set apart from the world. 

If we do thus confide in Him, with what joy, 
with what hope, may we look for the day when He 
shall judge the world in righteousness ! Will not He 
whom we confess before the world, confess us also be- 
fore His Heavenly Father? Will He not recognize 
His own in the midst of the crowd, and gather them 
to Himself? Will He forget His word, so rich in 
peace: " Father, I will that they also, whom thou 
hast given me, be with me where I am ; that they be- 
hold My glory, which thou hast given Me !" Men 
may err and be deceived ; if we confide in them our 
fate is dubious, our safety uncertain : but in His 
hands our salvation is sure, for He never changes 
and never errs. 

Therefore trust in the Lord, for He takes pleasure 
in those that fear Him, and hope in His mercy. 



THE NURTURE OF THE INNER LIFE. 

Col. 3 : 15-17. 

u And let the peace of God rule in your hearts, to the which also 
ye are called in one body ; and be ye thankful. Let the word of Christ 
dwell in you richly in all wisdom ; teaching and admonishing one 
another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing with grace in 
your hearts to the Lord. And whatsoever ye do in word or deed, do 
all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God and the Father 
by him." 

Lord, our Heavenly Father ! Thou hast created 
all things that are, and Thou art the Benefactor and 
Preserver of our race. Our highest happiness is 
to know Thee, to love Thee, to obey Thee. This 
alone raises us above the brute ; this alone spreads 
light and joy around us. Knowing Thee, we know 
the source of all that is good, and true, and noble. 
Loving Thee, we love the fountain of all that is 
worthy of our affection and deserving of our regard. 
Obeying Thee, we ennoble our will and character, 
and receive the best and wisest of all into our hearts. 
Grant therefore, Lord, that we may know, and 
love, and obey Thee. 

Our time, Lord ! is short, but the end of all 



50 THE NURTURE OF 

our endeavors, and the destination of our existence 
is to know Thee and Jesus Christ, the Saviour, 
whom Thou hast sent. We live here in a state of 
probation. It is Thy will, that in this state we 
make the wisest use of all our faculties and gifts ; 
that we cultivate and employ them in a manner 
which will result in our own welfare and in the 
welfare of our fellow- men. Thou hast connected us 
in different ways with each other, and commanded 
us to live for each other, and to take a mutual inte- 
rest in each other's temporal and eternal happiness. 
This duty Thou hast especially imposed upon 
parents and children, teachers and pupils. We 
have set this day apart, to remember this duty, and 
have come together to pray, that Thy Spirit may 
rest on all the Literary Institutions of our country. 
May Thy Word dwell richly in them, and may 
whatever they do in word or deed, be done in the 
name of Jesus. May teachers and scholars be of 
one mind. May all desire the spread of genuine 
piety. May they teach and admonish each other 
in psalms, and hymns, and spiritual songs — singing 
with grace in their hearts. Grant, Lord ! that 
our Literary Institutions may be the nurseries of 
godliness, and that the youth intrusted to them 
may be trained in the ways of holiness. 

May Thy blessing especially rest on the Institu- 
tion with which we are connected. Bless teachers 
and scholars ; visit them with Thy reviving 
Spirit; and may all, going forth from it, take with 



tup: inn eh LIFE; 51 

them the peace of God, which passeth all under- 
standing. 

There are four great institutions that are in- 
tended for the spread of the Gospel of Christ ; the 
Family, the Government, the Church, and the 
School. At all times, and in all ages, the Govern- 
ment has rested on the Family ; the character of the 
latter has been that of the former. The degree of 
liberty enjoyed in the family, was also enjoyed by 
every citizen. If the family spirit of a nation was 
despotic, despotism was the form of the Government. 
So closely are families and the whole Government 
connected, that as every individual constitutes an 
integral part of the family to which he belongs, so 
are all families members of one great Family, the 
nation. This connection between these two insti- 
tutions, which have at all times been considered of 
divine origin, is generally acknowledged ; but less 
so, on the one hand, the relation of the School and 
the Church to each other, and, on the other, the 
influence of both upon the state of civil society. 
Some think, that education, independent of reli- 
gion, and consequently of the Christian Church, 
would be sufficient to uphold order and civil liberty; 
others place all their confidence in the prudence 
and wisdom of Lawgivers, and deem even the most 
common education unnecessary. Christians thought 
differently on this subject even in the earliest periods 
of Christianity. As the Saviour had not overlooked 



52 THE NURTURE OF 

children, but had said : " Suffer little children to 
come unto me and forbid them not, for of such is 
the Kingdom of Heaven ;" so the first Christians 
very soon thought of training the youth ; and esta- 
blished schools, whose object it was to instruct them 
in eternal truth. In early times, already, there 
was a school at Alexandria, in which teachers were 
educated for common schools. Thus, we perceive 
the great care which was bestowed upon the Chris- 
tian Education of youth. And this same care has 
exhibited itself, whenever, after a state of slumber, 
the Church has again awoke to a due sense of her 
obligations. The Reformers, especially Martin 
Luther, turned the attention of the people to the 
then deplorable state of the schools, wrote Cate- 
chisms for them, visited them, and insisted on 
having the Bible, Catechism, and Hymnbook well 
studied, portions of them learned by heart, and 
others explained. In Germany, the subjects of in- 
struction, and the order in which they are taken 
up, are regulated, even now, by the plan adopted 
at the time of the Reformation. The school com- 
mences with singing a hymn ; then prayers are 
offered by some of the scholars ; then some chap- 
ters are read from the Bible, and afterwards ex- 
plained, and such passages marked as the teacher 
desires the scholars to commit to memory ; then the 
portion of the Catechism pointed out for the day is 
recited, and, after these religious exercises have been 
attended to, arithmetic, geography, and history 



THE INNER LIFE. 53 

come in their regular turn. The object of all in- 
struction was and is, with them, to train up the 
youth to be pious and godly, honoring their Creator, 
preserving virtue and righteousness in their lives. 

And what is more natural, than that in every- 
thing which is great, we should turn our attention 
directly to the youth, the tender object of our love 
and care ? There is an infallible criterion, by which 
we may distinguish the noble and good from the 
merely great, or from that which historically and in 
the eye of the world, makes an epoch. This criterion 
is the following. Those who, filled with the spirit 
of something good, desire its preservation, are at 
all times the friends of youth, and place their hopes 
and wishes upon them. But the heroes of worldly 
history are satisfied with the co-operation of their 
contemporaries. The revival of internal life needs 
the youth as its soil ; revolutions and other heroic 
actions can do without it. 

This has been felt too, in its full extent, by all the 
good and noble citizens of our country. They have 
unanimously agreed on setting this day apart, to 
pray for revivals of religion in colleges, and in 
doing this they deserve our highest regard. For 
if common schools have at all times been the ob- 
jects of Christian solicitude, how much more ought 
those institutions to claim the prayers of all the 
pious, that must furnish the community with its phy- 
sicians and lawyers, with its teachers and ministers, 
and with the heirs of all its knowledge and wisdom ? 



54 THE NURTURE OF 

I invite your attention to-day to a few remarks, 
which I shall make on the words we find in the 
Epistle to the Colossians, in the 3d chapter, from the 
15th to the 17th verses. 

"And let the peace of God rule in your hearts, to the which also ye are 
called in one body ; and be ye thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell 
in you richly in all wisdom ; teaching and admonishing one another in 
psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing with grace in your 
hearts to the Lord. And whatsoever ye do in word or deed, do all in 
the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God and the Father by 
Him." 

Though these words were originally addressed to 
Christians in their relation to each other, they 
apply equally well to Christians in their relation to 
the youth committed to their care ; and in the latter 
respect only I shall make them the subject of a 
short lecture. 

I. The purpose which a school may have imme- 
diately in view, and by which it may distinguish 
itself from other schools, may be a very specific 
one, and subservient to some end in common life. 
There are many wants, and many occupations to 
meet these wants ; there are many gifts and talents 
that qualify different persons for different employ- 
ments. These different talents and inclinations 
ought all of them to be cultivated, and particular 
schools ought to be adapted to these specific ends. 
But no schools have any permanent value, unless 
while each differs from the other by its specific 
object, all live in one spirit; and unless all these 
specific objects are subordinate to one great end, to 



THE INNER LIFE. 55' 

that of introducing the peace of God into the hearts 
of our youth. What is human knowledge worth 
without the peace of God ! What is the possession 
of all wisdom and of all the riches of the earth 
worth without salvation after death ? This then is 
the great end of all schools, and of colleges espe- 
cially, that we lead our youth to the source from 
which the peace of God flows richly and purely ; 
that we teach them and entreat them to receive 
this peace into their hearts, and have it reign in 
them. In this aim all schools ought to be united ; 
as a single and invisible thread unites a great num- 
ber of beautiful and variegated flowers into one gar- 
land, so this spirit of the peace of God and this 
common end ought so to unite institutions of learn- 
ing, that while many as to number and purposes, 
they nevertheless may be one as to spirit and final 
end. 

From this view it follows, that a school, which 
has only the acquisition of bread, the future sup- 
port of its scholars, in view, is wholly unworthy of 
the patronage of Christians, and unworthy of a noble 
and free community. There are schools even in 
Christian communities, that teach many things ; 
that teach us how to converse with our fellow-men, 
how r to carry on our business, how to treat those 
with w r hom we have intercourse, and how to turn 
every production of the earth to our advantage. 
In such schools many books are read and become 
endeared to the scholars j but while all are read, 



56 THE NURTURE OF 

one only is excluded, — the Bible. It is not read, not 
quoted, not even alluded to. All instruction must 
of course be in accordance with this principle. 
While everything in space and in time is spoken 
of, that which is beyond space and time, eternity, 
is never thought of. Faith, faith in a Saviour ; holi- 
ness, sanctification, repentance, and salvation, are 
words never heard. The omission of such topics in a 
school is heathenish, and must be deprecated. Our 
great and principal aim must always be the one 
mentioned : that we may introduce the peace of 
God into the hearts of our youth. 

II. But how shall we lead those to the Source of 
peace, who by nature are the enemies of God ? 
Peace and ivar cannot be united ; the one excludes 
the other. It is in vain for man to say to the 
raging storm, Be silent ! or to the agitated wave of 
the ocean, Sink and be smooth ! or to the passions of 
man, Be composed ! — While there is no power left 
to man, by which to cause the peace of God to de- 
scend upon him and bless him, the Apostle never- 
theless admonishes us to be thankful ; for 

1. We have a Prince of peace, by whose power 
and love, by whose death and resurrection, peace 
between God and man, is restored — by whose mere 
word the power of demons is banished from our 
hearts, and the love of God takes possession of 
them. Hence let us be thankful ; and let whatever 
we do or say, be done and said in the name of 



THE INNER LIFE. 57 

Christ ; let His name be often pronounced in the 
ears of our youth ; let it be urged upon them as the 
only one in which there is salvation in heaven, and 
peace for a disturbed and terrified conscience. 

2. But let us be thankful for another reason, 
closely connected with the above. Let us be thank- 
ful for the spirit of Christianity, which, after it gave 
us a Saviour, the Gospel, and the Church, likewise 
instituted schools, and thus made it possible to pro- 
nounce the name of the Saviour daily in the hearing 
of those whose consciences have not yet become 
callous. There were indeed schools before the in- 
troduction of the Christian religion, but they were 
either of an elementary character, or had a parti- 
cular rank of citizens in view, or were a private 
undertaking of doubtful existence. The ancient 
Hebrew has even no name for schools of children, 
and much less can it have had the thing itself. 
There were schools for prophets, and Rabbins, 
as among the Jews ; schools for priests, as among 
the Egyptians and Indians ; schools for kings, as 
among the Persians; schools for philosophers, as 
among the Greeks; schools for orators, as among 
the Romans. But Christianity has brought about a 
change. Not only certain gifts and talents are con- 
sidered worthy of the care and attention of Chris- 
tians, but all without any exceptions. Every talent 
and qualification is the gift of God, and, as such, 
must be drawn out and cultivated. Hence as dif- 
ferent as these talents are, as different become the 



58 THE NURTURE OF 

forms of schools ; and whatever the employment is 
to which any one happens to be inclined, there is 
a school he may enter, calculated to prepare him 
for it. There are the schools for infants, in which 
the tender lips of our race are already taught to pro- 
nounce the name of the Saviour, to pray and to sing. 
There are afterwards the schools for languages, arts, 
economy, mercantile schools, military schools, up 
to gymnasiums, lyceums, colleges, universities, and 
academies of science. Who, casting a glance upon 
this well-organized system of schools, proceeding 
from a Christian regard for every talent of man and 
every employment in life, would not feel thankful, 
especially when he may believe, that in all these 
schools, from the lowest to the highest, the person 
of Christ is taught as the source of the peace of 
God, which passeth all understanding? 

3. Colleges ought to be thankful for the supe- 
rior advantages they enjoy in disciplining the facul- 
ties of the mind, in cultivating the heart, in forming 
the character, and in refining the taste. It is with 
thoughts, as with many other things, that are not 
matured and do not become perfect until they have 
passed through a great many hands. Thoughts 
and sciences do not ripen in the same mind or 
nation, in which they first originated, but require 
time and many different efforts to be drawn out and 
to be brought to maturity. The ancients could not 
base their literature and knowledge as we do, upon 
past experience; the Greeks had no Oriental poetry 



THE INNER LIFE. 59 

nor philosophy, no Oriental works on natural 
science, which they could use as models, and which 
they had only to render more perfect. We, on the 
other hand, see the inexhaustible riches of the 
Greek genius spread before us in the most beautiful 
form; we may only sit down at the table, laden so 
plentifully, and enjoy ourselves. Should we not 
be thankful that Divine Providence has preserved 
to us a Homer and Plato, a Xenophon, aThucydides 
and Plutarch, an Aristotle and Tacitus? Every 
word these men spoke was given in its most clas- 
sical form, and not written for the day, but for an 
eternity. Reading them in the proper spirit, we 
may learn how to communicate golden fruits in 
silver capsules, and thus accustom ourselves to cor- 
rect and beautiful thinking. Yet in being thank- 
ful for these books and advantages, we must not for- 
get that they are only valuable, when the light of 
The Book is shed upon them; when, while admiring 
their beauties, we are at the same time enabled by 
it to preserve ourselves free from their errors and 
superstition. 

III. When thus we lead our youth to the peace of 
God, and give the Bible a pla<;e above all other 
books; when we invite Christ to reside among us, 
and when He speaks by the lips of the teachers and 
opens the hearts and ears of the scholars, then we 
shall be united "in one body/' as our text says. 
Then there will be no ambition on the part of teach- 



60 THE NURTURE OF 

ers, no envy and jealousy among scholars; then none 
will desire to communicate his own views, but the 
truth as it is in Christ; none will insist on his own 
narrow and contracted ideas, but every one will be 
willing to receive instruction as well as to give it. 
For the spirit of love will animate all, scholars and 
teachers; they will live together like brethren; they 
will cherish each other, and be mild and forgiving; 
they will aid and assist each other in everything, 
but especially in the attainment of salvation; they 
will be of one mind and one spirit ; they will be 
united in one body. 

IV. But our text says: "Let the word of Christ 
dwell in you richly in all wisdom." Here let us 
mark the little word all. No science is to be ex- 
cluded from the Word of God ; no science is unfit to 
receive it, as no sinner is so great that he can not 
be blessed by it. Every science then may become 
its vessel; every one may be penetrated by it. 
Whether it is Homer we read, or Pindar; whether 
we study history, and its convincing evidences of a 
divine plan and providence, or the science of nature, 
which exhibits the Divine Will in every law; every- 
where, Paul says, lgt the Divine Word dwell richly. 
But where it dwells, there the spirit of love must 
reign, and that of denunciation must flee. Not 
then does the Divine Word dwell in worldly wis- 
dom, when we denounce it, when we abuse and 
condemn it; how could it dwell in that which we 



THE INNER LIFE. 61 

try to destroy? but when we raise the worldly 
science by the spirit of Christ; when we free it from 
its worldly tendency, and connect it with the things 
of eternity. For every science has a truth, and 
every real truth must be capable of entering the 
eternal truth. 

From this passage of our text we may remark : 

1. That Paul does not favor the notion of those 
that think it sufficient to have separate hours for 
religious exercises, for the reading and the explain- 
ing of the Gospel, but he insists on having the Word 
of Christ dwell richly in all our wisdom. As the 
Spirit of God wrought in the prophets, and breathed 
in the harp of David, as it built the temple of Solo- 
mon and spake judgment by the mouth of Debora, 
so the book of Christ is to reign with its spirit and 
truth in every human book, so the Spirit of God is 
to breathe life and energy into all our wisdom, and 
thus connect everywhere the earthly and the hea- 
venly, sanctifying the former by the latter. 

2. We remark that in reading the classics, those 
works of varied talents and deep, untiring study, 
we ought not to do as those who consider them the 
only oracles of truth, and recommend every w r ord 
and sentiment, just because Pliny or Cicero uttered 
them. Such views wrong the Book of all books, 
and misunderstand its value, which is as much 
greater than that of every other, as the w T isdom of 
God is higher than that of man. How r ever we may 
admire the wisdom of a Plato or of an Aristotle, we 



62 THE NURTURE OF 

will feel it on every page we read, that they sought in- 
deed perseveringly, but in vain, for that truth which 
is now accessible even to the understanding of 
children. Hence we ought to cause the light of the 
Gospel to fall upon them. 

3. Neither ought we in reading the classics to fol- 
low those, who treat these great and noble works, 
these models of pure style and correct thinking, 
these unequalled specimens of oratory, poetry, his- 
tory, and philosophy — as if they were the works of 
schoolboys ; who seem to read them only for the 
purpose of exhibiting their own superior wisdom, of 
showing how much wiser they are than the authors, 
which they explain. It is always easy to sit in 
judgment on a work and condemn it, and to do so 
is gratifying to man ; for he would rather annihilate 
what goes beyond his own capacity, than acknow- 
ledge its superiority ; it is more difficult to under- 
stand a superior work ; and it is the most difficult 
of all to write one that is equal to it or better. 
When therefore a Christian, with the Bible in his 
hand, guided by revelation, which is given him 
without his merit ; when a Christian thus furnished 
with means, scorns the works of noble heathen, 
ridicules or condemns them, it is as absurd, as if a 
full-grown man, well acquainted by long use with 
a machine, laughs at another, because he cannot 
find the invisible spring, so well known to him, 
Avhich when touched sets the whole work in motion. 
What can be more ridiculous than that a serious 



THE J N NER LI i 1.. 63 

man should quarrel with Plato, because he is not a 

Christian ? The works of Greece stand unparalleled 
until now ; no modern nation has a Demosthenes, 
or a Homer, a Sophocles or a Pindar, as regards 
beauty of expression and style, or richness and 
energy of thought. If we have not been able to 
reach their high position in these respects, it illy 
becomes us to treat them as if they were far below 
us, while we are perhaps not able to understand 
them fully, much less to write as they did. 

Let us therefore neither overvalue nor under- 
value them, but read them with the Gospel in our 
hands, and suffer the light of the latter to fall upon 
the dark portions of those ancient writers. Then 
we will acknowledge the good in them, and learn 
from them ; and like the bee, that instinctively 
finds its suitable nourishment, we shall be able to 
appropriate all w 7 isdom, thus sanctified by the 
Divine Word, richly dwelling in it, and to exclude 
whatever is erroneous. 

V. And what will be the fruits of learned schools, 
that thus have the Word of Christ dwelling in them 
richly in all wisdom ? 

The text contains the answer. Those educated 
in them, " w r ill teach and admonish one another in 
psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing 
with grace in their hearts. And whatsoever they 
do in word or deed, they will do all in the name 
of the Lord Jesus !" 



04 THE NURTURE OF 

They will then, in the first place, teach and 
admonish each other ; they will become their own 
leaders ; they will continue, what they have begun, 
and enter the Church of Christ, either as ministers 
or as useful lay-members. Their minds will grow 
strong, and their knowledge be solid ; for their 
studies will be carried on from a sense of duty, and 
not merely according to goodwill and pleasure. 
They will, in the second place, cultivate their hearts 
and prepare them to receive truth ; for he who 
loves Christ, will love what is good and true and 
beautiful, wherever he may meet with it. They 
will sing therefore with grace in their hearts ; 
their songs will be psalms and hymns and spiritual 
songs ; and these will be but the expression of the 
harmony and peace felt in their hearts. But when 
the understanding and heart are rightly cultivated, 
the state will also receive citizens, that do, whatever 
they do, in the name of Jesus and in the fear of 
God. What is it that the citizen needs more than 
anything else? Whether he has to sit in the 
council of kings or to arrange the concerns of a 
farm ; whether as a minister he has to satisfy the 
spiritual w r ants of a congregation, or as a teacher to 
lead to knowledge and virtue, he needs the fear of 
God above all things and the courage of a manly 
disposition. Whilst knowledge exhibits to us the 
good and the right, firmness and moral courage 
enable us to do what is right. Whether our own 
advantage try to influence us, or predilection, or 



THE INNER LIFE. 65 

prejudice, or respect for favor, honor, or promotion, 
or fear, yet a firm and resolute disposition, that fears 
God and loves Christ, can not be bribed. A will- 
ingness to obey the laws of the country, an attach- 
ment to the constitution, which protects and defends 
their rights and lives, love for the country in 
which they live, and a readiness to sacrifice their 
own lives for the welfare of thG commonwealth in 
the hour of danger, — distinguishes those who have 
learned to live in Christ, and to do all they do in His 
name. Such a moral disposition, such a firmness, 
such an umvavering courage, is the fruit of religion, 
of the fear of God, and the love of Christ. 

Yet schools, training up the youth in the fear of 
the Lord, do not only educate valuable citizens 
for the state, but citizens too of the kingdom of 
Christ. Heaven will claim them as well as earth ! 

In applying the words of the text to ourselves, 
w r e may all learn a useful lesson. For if the Word 
of God is to .dwell in all our wisdom, its spirit 
ought not only to fill and penetrate our teaching 
and instruction, but all our rules and arrangements, 
all our affections and discipline, all our admonition 
and advice. Colleges themselves ought to be re- 
garded as the field for the operations of the Holy 
Spirit of God, and as the sacred seats of sanctified 
wisdom and knowledge. If the Word of God is to 
dwell richly in all wisdom, then all subjects taught 
in them are holy, and ought to be attended to 



66 THE NURTURE OF 

with regard and reverence. If the Word of God 
is to exhibit its power in all our actions, then 
Teachers and Students ought to love each other, 
and their intercourse ought to be marked by Chris- 
tian dignity, by respect for and tender interest in 
each other. No offence can be greater in their 
intercourse, than one offered to the regard which 
Scholars owe to Teachers and Teachers to Scholars, 
and fellow-students to each other. If any offence 
is to be severely animadverted upon, it is such an 
one. Such an offence darkens the bright hopes of 
a school, and is at the same time like a concealed 
poison, that undermines the character of him who 
gave it. An offence against the rules of the insti- 
tution is next in odiousness. Every rule leads to 
order and regularity ; without rules there must be 
confusion. He who does not love and regard rules 
in science, in morals, and in his whole conduct, will 
not love order, and he who does not love order will 
be superficial, negligent, and destitute of respect for 
himself in all his undertakings. Such persons are 
a burden to themselves and a curse to the school of 
which they are members. Let therefore the Word 
of God dwell richly in all wisdom and in all your 
actions ; be conscientious, regular in the perform- 
ance of your duties ; and never forget that no one 
will regard you more than you see fit to regard 
yourselves. 

But, in the second place, teach and admonish one 
another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs. 



THE IN NEK LIFE. 67 

That the Word of God may dwell richly in all 
wisdom, Ave must pray lor the presence of His 
Spirit in our hearts. Prayer must, therefore, pre- 
cede and accompany all our teaching and admoni- 
tions ; prayer in private and in public, prayer out 
of season and in season. It is the principal means 
to secure to ourselves personal holiness; it is the 
principal means, too, to call the blessing of God 
down upon an institution. Next to prayer we ought 
to take a deep interest in each other, and especially 
the pious in those that are still out of Christ. 

But this interest must be genuine. It ought not 
to flow forth merely from the consideration that 
duty demands it, but from a sanctified brotherly 
love. When we have to force ourselves to it, when 
it is the offspring of cool reflections, and when we 
cherish it as a matter of duty or as part of our 
occupation, it will effect nothing, or have an effect 
that is not desirable. But when it comes from 
the heart, then it will find its way to the heart. 

This interest, moreover, ought to be associated 
with forbearance and kindness, with meekness and 
consideration. It should never become obtrusive, 
never presume that it can effect what it desires 
in others, consequently should not be offended, nor 
discouraged, nor dissatisfied, when it does not suc- 
ceed. It begins in love and must end in love ; 
it confesses that all depends on God, and hence 
in meeting with a disappointment, it ought to as- 
cribe this likewise to the Ruler of the universe. 



68 NURTURE OF THE INNER LIFE. 

If, now, in this spirit of Christian love and with 
such views, I direct a word to you, my young 
friends, who are still out of Christ, believe me, that 
it is spoken from friendship, and from a true inte- 
rest in }^our eternal welfare. Your opportunities 
for receiving the peace of God into your hearts are 
manifold; and if you reject it as often as it is 
offered to you, you must finally render yourselves 
wholly insensible to it. The peace of God is neces- 
sary for your comfort in life, it is more necessary 
still in the hour of death, and most necessary when 
you will have to stand before the bar of judgment. 
There is a God who sees and watches you, who 
knows and perceives all your actions and views 
and feelings. He is your Creator, He will be your 
Judge. His approbation is desirable, His peace 
worth more than much fine gold. He offers you 
His peace daily, hourly ; He offers it to you in the 
youth of your lives. Do not despise His offers con- 
stantly, until He will no more repeat them, or until 
He calls you from time to eternity. Then it will 
be too late to get the peace of God ; and without a 
guide to find the path that leads through the valley 
of death to the heaven of life, without consolation 
or hope, your eyes will close in deep night, and 
despair will hang around you and snatch from you 
every hope of peace. Be wise in time, and seek 
early for that which alone can render you happy 
in life and in death, in time and in eternity ! 



THE FRUITS OF THE INNER LIFE. 

Phil. 1 : 9-11. 

"And this I pray, that your love may abound yet more and more in 
knowledge and in all judgment ; that ye may approve things that are 
excellent ; that ye may be sincere, and without offence, till the day of 
Christ; being filled with the fruits of righteousness, which are by Jesus 
Christ, unto the glory and praise of God." 

Our Heavenly Father ! We approach Thy 
throne, to adore and praise Thee. Thou art 
Light, but we are surrounded by darkness. Thou 
art love, but we are opposed to Thee, and hate 
each other. Thou art holy, but we are sinners, 
and there is nothing good in us. We beseech 
Thee, the source of all holiness, that, by the in- 
fluences of Thy Holy Spirit, Thou wilt sanctify 
our hearts, purify our feelings, determine all our 
resolutions, and devote our will to Thy service, 
and glory, and honor. 

We can perform no good deeds by our own 
power ; we cannot obtain righteousness by our 
own merits, for we have none. But, believing in 
the death of Christ, and receiving His life by faith, 
and His sufferings in our stead, we may be justi- 
fied through Thy eternal grace. Give us this 
faith and this righteousness ! 



(U THE FRUITS OP 

Let the tree of our lives be filled with the fruits 
of righteousness, which are in us through Christ 
Jesus; may we grow in knowledge, and approve 
all things that are more excellent; may our Lord 
dwell in us, for He can render him strong who is 
weak, He can make him rich who is poor in spirit, 
and him unconquerable who is surrounded by the 
snares and allurements of life. 

We feel, Lord ! that all depends upon Thy 
blessing. Grant us this Thy holy blessing ! 

Bless the Church of Christ as far as it extends ; 
protect it from dangers from within and from with- 
out; preserve its purity; let it grow in love, and let 
every temple become a seminary of the eternal 
truth. 

Bless all missionary undertakings ; grant that 
through them the time may be hastened, when all 
shall know Thee. 

Bless all the Institutions devoted to Thy honor; 
bless the Sunday Schools ; bless the Teachers en- 
gaged in them. Let the children come to Thee, 
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. 

Let this country prosper. Sanctify its rulers, 
that they may honor Thee. Bless this town and 
neighborhood ; grant that every one in it may be 
devoted to Thy name ; that it may be their daily 
meat and drink to do Thy will. Be with this 
afflicted congregation, and whilst they are a flock 
without a shepherd, let each one feel, that Thou 
hast promised to be with Thy people always even 
unto the end of the world. — 



THE INNER LIFE, 71 

Every plant or animal, as long as it lives, grows 
until it reaches the highest degree of perfection of 
which its nature is susceptible. This is the general 
law of all that is created, and it is but reasonable to 
look for a similar law in those who tread the path 
of light, following the steps of Him, who even in 
His earliest childhood taught the wisest and most 
learned of His time. It is but natural to expect 
that the older they grow in age, the wiser do they 
become in divine knowledge, the stronger in Chris- 
tian love, the more ardent in their zeal for the 
cause of our Redeemer. And we may expect this 
the more, since whilst everything else on earth has 
a limit appointed to it, the growth of the Christian 
has no limit. In our earthly business and occupa- 
tions we may frequently say, " It is finished," if 
not before the hour of death, at least in that hour. 
Then we shall have finished gathering riches ; then 
our earthly cares and trials will be finished; then 
the pursuits of ambition will be at an end. But the 
Christian when dying must acknowledge that this 
life is but a state of probation, but the commence- 
ment of a work, which will extend throughout, and 
have consequences for, all eternity. Such a work 
ought indeed to arrest all our attention, to claim 
our interest before all others; ought to cause us, who 
are buried with Christ, to grow daily in that, in 
which w r e hope to live eternally. And yet how fre- 
quently do we find it otherwise ! There are so- 
called Christians, that promised fairly in their 



72 THE FRUITS OF 

youth, but in more advanced age retain scarcely a 
dark remembrance of their knowledge, gathered in 
early years ; there are others who seemed to have 
received a warm and lasting impression, but their 
earthly cares and worldly desires have effaced it; 
others whose fondness for pleasure grows whilst the 
vigor of their body declines — others who daily with- 
draw themselves more and more from the softening 
influences of benevolence and love, fill their breast 
with envy, distrust, avarice, and selfishness, whilst 
their gray heads are bending ripe for their graves. 
Paul, in addressing the congregation at Philippi, 
assures them that he prayed for them to his God 
that their love might abound more and more in 
knowledge and in all judgment, that they might 
approve all things excellent and be filled with the 
fruits of righteousness. Paul neither advocated a 
faith, living only in the head, without affecting 
the life, whose principal object is knowledge and 
wisdom; nor a faith that has its root only in the 
heart ; but prayed that by the grace of God the 
congregation at Philippi might possess that faith, 
which, as a new principle, would pervade equally 
all the faculties of their souls and all the affections 
of their hearts, which would sanctify all their de- 
sires and consecrate their whole lives to the service 
of the Lord ; that they might grow in such faith, 
until their lives would be filled with the fruits of 
righteousness. The theme of my discourse will be 
derived from the 11th verse. 



TILK IN NET? LIFE. i > 

'•Being filled with the fruits of righteousness 
which are by Jesus Christ unto the glory and praise 
of God." I shall show how the life of the Christian is 
filled with these fruits. In showing this, each word 
of the text demands a particular consideration. 

1. And first of all, the term righteousness. A 
righteous man, according to the Old Testament, 
was one who, having fulfilled all the command- 
ments, had by his own works and merits secured 
to himself the favor of God, and had a right to 
expect the promised reward. Yet no man could 
be considered righteous, unless he had fulfilled 
all the law, and was perfect as our Father in 
heaven. This being utterly impossible, inasmuch 
as, possessing a sinful nature, we either do the 
works of the flesh, of sin, and of darkness, or if our 
works agree externally with the law, our motives 
and internal disposition, which are the soul of our 
actions and determine their value, are still sinful 
and wanting in love, which alone produces what is 
good, — there is no righteousness to be obtained 
under the law and by works. Even Abraham was 
considered righteous only on account of his faith. 
Without a Mediator, without a Redeemer, we 
would be given to sin, and our fate would be 
eternal condemnation. Through our Saviour, how- 
ever, another righteousness has been procured, 
which is diametrically opposed to the righteousness 
of the law. That righteousness being a gift of 
grace, is to be obtained only by faith in Christ. 



74 THE FRUITS OP 

Acknowledging our utter insufficiency, confessing 
our own unworthiness, and that we can have no 
merit of our own, resigning all that is ours, being 
poor in spirit and thirsting after righteousness, w r e 
must place our whole confidence in the death of 
Christ; we must, with a joyful and grateful hope in 
Him, yield our whole heart to Him, be buried with 
Him, rise with Him, die unto ourselves and the 
world and live only in Him, and thus receive that 
righteousness w 7 hich the Saviour has purchased for 
us by His blood. The origin of this righteousness 
is God, the Mediator is Christ, he that receives it 
gratuitously is man, and the means by which he 
may partake of it is faith, and faith alone. 

The differences between the righteousness under 
the old and that under the new dispensation, are 
striking ; and in order that I may not be misunder- 
stood in my assertions, I shall point out the prin- 
cipal one. Whilst the righteousness wrought under 
the law claimed a merit of its ow r n, led to Phari- 
saical pride and hypocrisy, and demanded its re- 
ward as having a right to it; the righteousness by 
faith, being based on a profound sense of our own 
insufficiency and unworthiness, begins in humi- 
lity, resigns all self-will, and prays that God wall use 
all our powers and faculties, all our days and hours, 
all our relations and our whole life, to His glory ; 
that He will determine our wills and sanctify our 
hearts, free us from selfishness, and do all in us that 
is necessary for our sanctification. 



THE INNER LIFE. 75 

Bat this righteousness is not only based on humi- 
lity, it receives all its nourishment also from it, and 
can prosper only by it. Knowing that reconciliation 
and justification have been brought about only 
through Christ Jesus, we dare not look for mercy 
unworthy of God, but we may place our hope on 
his grace in Christ. "Wherefore gird up the loins 
of your mind, be sober and hope to the end, for the 
grace that is to be brought unto you at the revela- 
tion of Jesus Christ." In the light of this grace we 
must feel our own wretchedness more deeply, re- 
pent of our sinfulness more heartily, look with 
more gratitude upon the blessings we have received, 
and perceive more clearly our dignity as Chris- 
tians, more seriously our destination here on earth 
and hereafter in heaven. 

Again : as humility is the commencement and 
the only nourishment of righteousness by faith, so 
it is also its principal support. Self-righteousness 
gives a dangerous feeling of security and safety ; it 
does not see the danger of so many sensual impres- 
sions on our inner man ; it does not avoid tempta- 
tions to do evil, for it is proud and self-confident ; 
it exposes itself to the allurements and snares which 
are laid here by a passion, there by a habit — here 
by a relation to men, there by a combination 
of circumstances — here by the business and clamor 
of the world, there by the silence of night — here by 
the ardent urgency of a mistaken zeal, and there 
even by the blessing of a good deed ; for working 



76 THE FRUITS OF 

in its own strength, it attributes all success to itself, 
and not to Him from whom it comes. Righteous- 
ness, on the other hand, obtained by faith, is hum- 
ble, knows its own weakness, and takes no steps 
without asking for the approval of Christ. It leads 
us to pray constantly that He would watch over 
our hearts, that He would give us an insight into 
all that surrounds us ; that He would keep our 
feet from the snares which the world lays for us. 
We listen to every good advice ; are grateful for all 
instruction, for we desire to grow in wisdom ; we 
are anxious that all men with whom we are con- 
nected, should assist us in the work of sanctifica- 
tion ; should warn us and tell us when we err. 
Our only object is to purify the feelings, to diminish 
the desires, to overcome the passions, to raise the 
mind beyond space and time, and to drink from the 
Source that alone can quench all thirst forever. 
Our breastplate and our weapon is Jesus Christ ; 
to Him we look up in the hour of danger ; before 
Him we bend the knee in times of peace and 
security. For He alone can help ; He alone can 
make him strong who is weak, and him rich who 
is poor in spirit, and him unconquerable who is 
surrounded by the greatest dangers. 

Finally, humility is the croivn of righteousness 
by faith. Not the deed we do, deserves any praise 
or can claim any merit, but all glory belongs to 
that Power which gave us the will to do the deed. 
Not the gift we offer should receive the honor, but 



THE INNER LIFE. 77 

the love of Christ in us, that induces us to bring it. 
Not the pressing of the hand of an enemy, not the lips 
speaking the word of reconciliation, can claim any 
merit, but the mildness and kindness of Christ, living 
and active in us. All the power, by which we can do 
anything good, comes from Him, who is the only 
source and fountain of all good ; all we possess is 
His, except sin : to Him belongs all merit and all 
glory ; for He commences the work in us, and 
completes it also. 

2. The text, in the second place, speaks of the 
fruits of righteousness. What has been wrought 
by Christ internally, Paul declares must show itself 
externally. Let us however notice, that Paul 
speaks of fruits and not of ivorks. Works may be 
artificial ; they may appear to be what they are not 
really. They may be beautiful, and still the dis- 
position in which they are done, the intention 
which is their soul, may be poisonous ; they may 
be in outward conformity to the law, whilst they 
are utterly immoral. Fruits on the other hand are 
organic productions, which cannot be brought forth 
by art or evil design ; they are not the works of the 
sun, nor of the air, nor of rain — though all of them 
are necessary, — but the natural productions of that 
juice, which lives in the tree, which produces the 
leaf, the bud, and the blossom, and finally concen- 
trates itself in the fruit, continues to live in it and 
gives witness to the world of its nature. As the 
fruit now is potentially in the seed, so all good deeds 



i$ THE FRUITS OF 



fC 



are inclosed in that righteousness, which we have 
by faith ; and if Christ own this, He must own all 
it contains and produces. Again : as natural as it 
is, for the healthy seed, when sunk into the fruc- 
tifying bosom of the earth, and favored by the 
vivifying rays of the sun, to spring up and produce 
its fruits ; — so natural and necessary is it also, 
that righteousness planted in us by Christ, exer- 
cise and develop its life, and produce those fruits 
which are inclosed in it, love, joy , peace, forbearance, 
mildness, kindness, chastity. And this ought not 
only to be so, but it cannot be otherwise. As little as 
that which does not shine can be light ; or that 
which does not emit heat can be fire ; or that which 
does not utter itself can be power ; or that which 
is not active can be life ; as little as the plant 
which does not produce grapes, but thistles, can be 
a vine ; or the tree which does not bear figs, but 
grapes, can be a fig tree ; — so little can that be 
righteousness, which does not bring forth the fruits 
of righteousness. By its fruits we know the tree ; 
if holiness dwells in our hearts, it will flow forth, 
for with what the heart is filled, of that it over- 
flows ; if righteousness lives in us, it will embrace 
our whole life, in all its smaller and greater, in 
its private and public relations. It will embrace 
all our wishes, desires, and undertakings, all of which 
will develop themselves from it, as branches, leaves, 
and blossoms naturally grow forth from the seed. 
3. Paul says further : Being filled with the 



THE INNER LIFE. 79 

fruits of righteousness. A tree that is sound and 
upon which all necessary conditions exert a favor- 
able influence, will be full of fruits; every branch, 
every twig will be laden, and even the tender 
leaves will conceal many. So ought the Christian's 
life to be filled with many fruits of righteousness. 
He lives for a great destination. Among men he is 
to ripen for the circles of angels, and to commence 
a life that shall be completed only in another world. 
Can he be negligent? He has a great Pattern, every 
minute of whose life was devoted to our salvation, 
and whose meat and drink it was to do the will of 
his Father in heaven : shall the Christian be satis- 
fied with a few unconnected efforts? The Christian, 
by the grace of God, enjoys a heavenly strength 
and power ; for he knows that he is of a divine 
origin, that he is under a holy protection, that he 
has a heavenly Ally, and he feels that though he be 
weak, yet his Saviour in him is mighty : shall not 
his works, his labors, his undertakings, aim at 
something beyond that which common men effect ? 
The Christian remembers that there is a day of 
judgment, when he must give an account of all he 
has done, of what he has thought or felt, of what 
he has accomplished or neglected : ought he not to 
watch and to pray, lest he enter into temptation ? 
Lest he do not apply his precious time to the glory 
of God ? The tree of a Christian's life, acting under 
a consciousness of his call, must be laden with the 
fruits of righteousness. If righteousness fills our 



80 TUE FRUITS OF 

thoughts, sanctifies our feelings, guides our feet, 
stimulates our faculties, and enters into all our re- 
lations, blessing and adorning them, will not our 
efforts produce fruits to ripen in eternity ? Should 
we not, then, be diligent members of our families, 
and agreeable companions in society ; tender givers 
and grateful receivers ; willing to make a promise 
for a good work and faithful in keeping it; kind to 
a friend and forgiving to an enemy; cheerful in the 
fulfilment of duties, patient in suffering, casting all 
our cares on Christ? If the Christian is what he 
ought to be, fruit will follow upon fruit, for he 
prospers in the rays of a mild and of a heavenly sun. 

4. But do we not feel, as if the mark toward 
which we press, can never be reached by beings 
weak and frail as we are ? Does it not seem as if 
our tree of righteousness can produce but a few 
miserable fruits ? It is not we, according to Paul, 
who are active, but Christ in us; He works 
through us : " being filled with the fruits of right- 
eousness, which are by Jesus Christ," says the text. 

Whilst in a state of sinfulness, the tree of our life 
bore only wild and poisonous fruits; for our works 
were the works of darkness, dead works, externally 
beautiful but bitter within. Through Christ, how- 
ever, a heavenly scion has been grafted on an 
earthly trunk, and the same tree now produces 
entirely different fruits. In the converted, flesh 
and blood no longer prevail, but the Lord, Christ 
Jesus. The Spirit has slain the old man and in- 



THE INNER LIEE. Si 

stilled a principle which has made everything new. 
The spiritually dead have been quickened; the law 
of the members no longer contradicts the will of 
Cod; though we may fail, for man errs as long 
as he lives, yet we trust in Christ, who will not 
leave us nor forsake us. Through Christ in us, 
therefore, the fruits of righteousness are produced. 
As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself except it 
abide in the vine, no more can we except we abide 
in Christ and He in us. 

5. Finally, the text speaks of " fruits unto the 
glory and praise of God." The man of faith and 
righteousness perceives indeed the Glory of God in 
all that He has created, in the occurrences of the 
world, in his own fortunes or misfortunes, in his 
joys and sorrows, in times of trouble and peace, in 
death and in life, nay even vice and sin must glorify 
God and serve Him. But nothing in nature nor 
in history, is so well calculated to glorify God and 
praise Him, as the fruits of righteousness, for the 
Glory of God is their direct result and their object. 
It is their result, for they glorify Him among those 
by whom Christians are surrounded. They see in 
the fruits of righteousness the influence of the Spirit 
and power of God; they cannot but acknowledge 
a disposition sanctified by a higher principle than 
earth with all it has can impart; they must confess 
that God is wise and great and worthy of adoration, 
when they see our love, our zeal, our forgiveness of 
injuries, and above all our peace and joy in the 



82 THE FRUITS OF 

hour of death. Whilst our light shines before them, 
they may, perhaps, through it see Him, whom before 
they knew not ; and this is ever the ohject of the 
many fruits which our righteousness produces here 
on earth. Their end and main purpose is that the 
kingdom of Christ be spread on earth, that His will 
be done among us as it is done in heaven. Wrought 
through Christ in us, can these fruits be without 
His spirit? If we are true Christians, true followers 
of our Saviour, then wherever we go the kingdom of 
our Redeemer will go likewise, wherever ice are, 
the love within us will flow forth as water flows 
from a fountain. We will strive above all things 
to do His will w^hom we profess to serve; we will 
desire that the time may come when all shall know 
the Lord and praise and adore Him forever. The 
earth and all that is in it, is the Lord's ; can we 
endure it, that He, who is the Creator of all, be 
any longer deprived of that gratitude and submission 
which are due Him? That honor be given any 
longer to idols, passions, and vices? 

It is for this reason that Christians under all cir- 
cumstances, in every occupation, and in all their 
duties, prove themselves to be the servants of God, 
laboring for His glory; that they consider it the 
supreme purpose of their lives to work with consci- 
entiousness, with circumspection, with care, with 
perseverance, and with faithfulness, for the honor of 
their Creator; that they approve the things that 
are more excellent; and that it is their meat and 



THE INNER LIFE. S3 

drink to aid all attempts that are made for the 
propagation of the Gospel. 

Let me then urge it upon you as your duty to be 
always active in some noble and good work, to 
labor for the salvation of others and for the spread 
of Christ's kingdom. If you do so, you have the 
satisfaction of knowing that your labor is the fruit 
of the righteousness which is in us through Christ 
Jesus. You may anticipate the favor of God, and 
rejoice in knowing that you fulfil a duty which our 
Saviour has enjoined on every believer. Your 
labors, like the dew that falls from heaven, will be 
a double blessing, a blessing to yourselves and to 
those for whom you labor. They will bless your- 
selves in eternity with a heavenly reward, but they 
will also bless you here already on earth. Activity 
in a good w T ork must ennoble our talents and facul- 
ties, and strengthen us in wisdom and knowledge. 
It is but too true, that sense and all visible things 
exercise an irresistible power over us, and that in 
all we undertake, we look principally to our own 
advantage. How beneficial then must it not be to 
your disposition to be active, not in the work of 
your own will, but in the work of Him who lived 
and died for us ! How beneficial must it not be to 
your character to take thought not for your own ad- 
vantage, for your own honor, for your own gain, but 
for the honor of Him who did not seek His own 



84 THE FRUITS OP 

honor, but that of His Father in Heaven, and was 
obedient unto death, even the death of the cross ! 

Again : It is only by exercise that our spiritual 
as well as our intellectual faculties are developed 
and perfected. You .cannot be active in a good 
cause, you cannot labor for the salvation of others 
without benefiting yourselves, without producing the 
fruits of patience, submission, perseverance, hu- 
mility, confidence in the blessing of God ; and the 
greater the difficulties in your way, the more readily 
will these fruits grow. Though you labor in a good 
w r ork your existence will obtain a higher value in 
the eyes of God and man, your character a nobler 
tendency, your activity a more desirable object, 
your thoughts and endeavors will be directed more 
towards that which is above, and upon all you do, 
you will stamp the spirit of truth, of love, and of 
order. 

And in doing so you will call God's blessing upon 
those for whom you labor in promoting the spread 
of the Gospel. If you will labor with cheerfulness 
you must consider yourselves instruments in the 
hands of God; you must be convinced that through 
you He has determined in His eternal counsel to 
call many from death unto life. Perhaps it may 
seem sometimes as if your labors are not blessed ; 
but can you believe that He who has commenced a 
good work will leave it unfinished ? What we sow we 
shall also reap ; but is there no lapse of time between 
the season of sowing and that of reaping? It is our 



THE INNER LIFE. 85 

lot to sow in hope, and labor in blessing ; to com- 
mence an undertaking in the hope that it will 
prosper; to cultivate the land in the hope that it 
will produce a harvest; to navigate the ocean in the 
hope that it will yield its tribute ; to preach the 
Gospel, in the hope that its truth will win souls to 
Christ. Shall it be otherwise with your labors? 
Sometimes the blessing of our endeavors retires into 
remote places and distant times, and will not be 
known to us until eternity reveals it ; whilst at 
other times sowing and reaping occur almost in the 
same hour. Sometimes he who scatters the seed 
sinks into the earth with it; the seed grows 
and blooms around his grave, and another seems to 
reap what he has sown : but are not the dead that 
die in the Lord blessed, for they rest from their 
labors and their works do follow them? How 
many a one may be won for Christ by the zeal of a 
minister who does not know the fact; and whilst 
separated from each other by hills and valleys, they 
work in the same spirit, and for the same Master ! 
How many a one, without our imagining it, is first 
called by our example and piety to turn his atten- 
tion to the truth of the Gospel, and is finally con- 
verted by the grace of God ! How many a one, 
without our remembering him any longer, remem- 
bers our words, and finds in them comfort and con- 
solation amid his cares and trials ! How many a 
one may take our names on his lips whilst his heart 
beats with joy and gratitude! Does not many a 



86 THE FRUITS OF THE INNER LIFE. 

venerable teacher sink into the grave, without see- 
ing the fruits, the seeds of which he has sown with- 
out knowing to the full extent the love, gratitude, 
and attachment of those who weep over his memory 
and bless his name ! 

Yet what is all blessing on earth compared with 
that which we will see hereafter in Heaven. When 
you rest from your labors, your works will follow 
you. All is vanity on earth ; the treasures you 
collect; the works you complete or leave unfinished; 
the improvements of your farms ; the changes you 
effect ; the tokens of applause you may receive 
from the world : all is vain and void, when you 
turn away from the Visible to the Invisible. But 
if you lead a soul to God, if you glorify and honor 
His name in all you do, if the power of His king- 
dom comes, wherever you go — then your endeavors 
will not be vain, but they will yield fruits which 
will ripen for eternity, and which you will see and 
enjoy only in eternity. This is a heavenly reward, 
a blessing invisible on earth. 

May you therefore not only labor from a sense of 
duty, but may it be your daily meat and drink, as 
it was that of our Saviour. May you continue to 
work as long as it is day. The night will come 
soon : let us, therefore, follow Him who came not 
to be ministered unto, but to minister and to give 
His life a ransom for many. Amen. 



THE HUMILITY OF THE INNER LIFE. 

Luke 18 : 9-14. 

"And he spake tins parable unto certain which trusted in themselves 
that they were righteous, and despised others : — Two men went up into 
the temple to pray $ the one a Pharisee and the other a Publican. The 
Pharisee stood and prayed thus with himself, God, I thank Thee, that 
I am not as other men are, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even as 
this Publican. I fast twice in the week, I give tithes of all that I pos- 
sess. And the Publican, standing afar off, would not lift up so much 
as his eyes unto heaven, but smote upon his breast, saying, God be 
merciful to me a sinner. I tell you this man went down to his house 
justified rather than the other : for every one that exalteth himself shall 
be abased ; and he that humbleth himself shall be exalted." 

Lord, our Heavenly Father ! before Thee all the 
hosts of Heaven bow ; and all the inhabitants of the 
earth adore Thee in the dust. Thou art great, and 
Thy greatness is incomprehensible even to angels, 
that enjoy Thy light throughout all eternity. We, 
who are full of weakness and sin, full of frailty and 
guilt, whose minds are shrouded in darkness — we 
would not dare to approach Thee, if Thy grace and 
mercy did not equal Thy greatness and majesty. 
It is this grace that raises us up, when the thought 
of Thy awful greatness presses us down to the dust ; 
and while we approach Thee full of reverence, we 
come, at the same time, like children that know 
the unbounded love of their Father in Heaven. 



88 THE HUMILITY OF 

Oar prayer to-day is, Lord ! that Thou wilt 
awaken in us, and preserve in us, a deep sense of 
our manifold transgressions against Thy holy law ; 
and that Thou wilt grant us humility. 

Grant humility to all nations, that they may not 
grow proud, and foolish, and inconsiderate ; that 
they may not thirst, from ambition, after any other 
glory but that which they will derive from the 
promotion of Thy honor. 

Grant humility to all those in power, and espe- 
cially to those, who in Thy providence are at the 
head of our own Government. May they under- 
stand it, and acknowledge it, that they are respon- 
sible to Thee for all they do. 

Grant humility to all citizens of our country ; to 
the rich, as well as to the poor ; to the young as 
well as to the aged. May all of them say daily : 
Lord be merciful to us, miserable sinners. 

Lord ! we pray Thee, grant humility to the 
youth collected here. Suffer none of them to 
aspire after his own honor ; suffer none to seek for 
knowledge and science on their own account merely; 
but may they seek it for the purpose of advancing 
happiness, and of promoting Thy kingdom. May 
all of them enter life in humility ; may it be their 
meat and drink to do Thy will, and to go whither- 
soever thou callest them ; and may, in humility, 
the one esteem the other higher than himself. 

And now, Lord ! purify, and sanctify, and 
strengthen, and console all of us by granting us 



THE INNER LIFE. 89 

humility. Bless the happy with humility, that 
they may not fix their desires upon vanity. Bless 
the unfortunate with humility, that they may feel 
Thy nearness. Bless the wealthy, that they may 
not place their hopes upon uncertain riches ; and 
bless the poor, that in the midst of poverty they 
may feel rich in Thee. Reign over all of us, and 
lead us ; speak to us and we will hear ; command 
Thou and we will obey ; for Thine is the kingdom, 
and the power ; and to Thee all honor and glory are 
due, from eternity to eternity. 



Our text represents to us two moral characters, 
which are in direct opposition to each other. The 
one is that of selfishness and pride, the other that 
of humility and a consciousness of guilt before God. 
The former is exhibited in the Pharisee, the latter 
in the Publican. 

The Pharisee blesses God because he fasts twice 
a week and pays the tenth of all he has ; because 
he is not an extortioner, not unjust, not an adul- 
terer; because he is not as the Publican, but rather 
better than he. 

The Publican, on the other hand, standing afar 
off, silent, his eyes cast down, seems to be lost in 
meditation, and in the feeling of his unworthiness ; 
and all that he thinks and all that he says, is ex- 
pressed in the sigh that rises deep from his heart : 
" God be merciful to rae^ a sinner T 

8* 



90 THE HUMILITY OF 

The words both of the Pharisee and the Publican 
Avere uttered in a prayer. Prayer, whether uttered 
or unexpressed, is the immediate conversation of 
the soul with God, by which we acknowledge that 
God not only hears, but also knows us. Whatever 
any one says in prayer, may generally be considered 
as evincing his whole being, as expressing fully 
his true thoughts and feelings. For this reason the 
Pharisee and the Publican are represented as pray- 
ing. In reading this passage, we feel constrained 
therefore to believe, that the Pharisee has good 
reason to consider himself free from the crimes he 
enumerates, or else he would not dare to boast 
before God ; and that the Publican has committed 
some gross sins, or else his prayer would betray a 
false and hypocritical humility, which must dis- 
please Him, who can only love truth. Yet, whilst 
the Pharisee possesses, in his view, a legal righteous- 
ness of which he is proud, and the Publican is a poor 
and miserable sinner, Christ says : 

" I tell you this man went down to his house 
justified rather than the other." And he adds as 
the reason : " For every one that exalteth himself 
shall be abased, and he that humble th himself shall 
be exalted." 

The truth clearly contained, especially in the lat- 
ter words of this passage, is simply this : Pride and 
selfishness must cause a fall, but humility elevates 
us to true greatness. The theme of this discourse 
will therefore be humility, considered as the only 



THE INNER LIFE. ( J 1 

means of becoming truly great. To prove this, I 
shall show, in the first place, the nature both of pride 
and humility; and secondly: how each manifests 
itself in life, and what results it produces. 

I. It is natural, in proportion as we become con- 
scious of our talents, capacities, and all the advan- 
tages we possess really and in truth, not only to 
acknowledge, but also to love them ; and whilst we 
should not exhibit them unnecessarily, neither 
should we from a false and hypocritical modesty 
conceal them. It is natural, too, to place the proper 
value upon them; truth demands this of us; and if 
from a proud desire of appearing humble, we under- 
value them, we wrong God, the Creator and Giver 
of all, we wrong ourselves and no doubt mistake 
the proper use to be made of them. It is natural, 
moreover, that when we look upon the many noble 
powers man possesses, to be struck with the idea, 
that he is destined for something great; that as the 
mode of his existence differs from that of every other 
being on earth, so his destination after death will 
differ from that of all the creatures of which we 
have any knowledge. But selfishness or pride per- 
verts all this. It not only attributes to us faculties 
and powers and good qualities, merits and advan- 
tages, which we have not at all, but places also a 
value upon those we have, which they do not 
possess. It overlooks the blemishes in earthly 
beauty, the frailty of all human strength, the 



92 THE HUMILITY OF 

weakness of all human power, and the sinfulness 
of every virtue, which man aims at without the aid 
of a sanctifying spirit from above. Pride makes us 
forget God, who is the author and preserver of all 
we possess, and prompts us to ascribe everything 
to our own wisdom and skill and diligence and per- 
severance and merit. It inflates us with a perfect 
self-satisfaction ; it does not permit us to perceive 
anything reproachful in ourselves, for it teaches us 
to prize everything pertaining to ourselves, because 
it is part of ourselves. Hence it is that in our own 
estimation, of all decisions ours are the best ; of all 
creeds ours is the only true one ; of all works ours 
are most perfect; of all actions ours are most 
praiseworthy; and if we should even feel con- 
strained to acknowledge some weaknesses, pride 
teaches us how to beautify and excuse them ; so 
that in comparison with the frailties of others ours 
still retain the character of virtue. Thus wrapt up 
in selfishness, pride draws around us a magic circle 
whose centre we are ourselves; and whatever is 
beautiful and good is to be found only within it, 
while all that is without it is less attractive and 
lovely. 

From this it will sufficiently appear, that pride 
never aims at anything higher than what it pos- 
sesses already. If we are satisfied with ourselves, 
if we imagine we are good and perfect, can we 
aspire to anything higher or desire to alter any- 
thing in our character? If we have already what 



THE INNER LIFE. 93 

we desire, if our highest wishes are gratified, and 
we have no sense of want, what can give us the im- 
pulse to seek for any change ? 

If it be true, however, that even the best of us, 
like Achilles, are vulnerable in some place or 
other, that even the best among men are sinners, 
liable to temptations from within and from with- 
out, that all of us share the same dangers and the 
same guilt; — then nothing can protect us from 
destruction, but a higher power which pride re- 
jects, and nothing can lead us to true greatness in 
life but humility. 

Humility bases itself upon a deep feeling of the 
greatness of God, of the perfection of all His attri- 
butes, upon a sense of our own weakness and frailty, 
and of our dependence on God for everything we 
possess. Humility rests on the conviction, that 
what we possess and can do, that what we are and 
effect, depends on Him who reigns over the uni- 
verse ; that the body is but dust, and with all its 
beauty or strength will soon be the prey of death, 
that it is like a flower, which blooms to-day and 
withers to-morrow. Humility rests on the fact, 
that our knowledge is limited, our understanding is 
surrounded by darkness; that our strength is easily 
exhausted, and that our highest power can move 
but a few atoms in a small space. But especially 
does humility rest upon the sense of guilt and sin- 
fulness attending us constantly. We are not only 
weak, but full of sin, transgressors of God's law ; 



94 THE HUMILITY OF 

our transgressions are not only many, but they are 
odious and full of evil consequences. We are con- 
stantly either stumbling or falling in the path of 
wickedness; if we do not reject and violate the law 
of God in one or the other case, we obey it only 
from impure motives, from fear or hope. Thus, by 
holding up before us the purity and holiness of God, 
humility teaches us to know ourselves as we are ; 
it turns our eyes away from gazing on our external 
advantages, and fixes them upon the condition of 
our hearts. If this be corrupt, if the fountain of 
our feelings and thoughts and the soul of our actions 
be poisoned, what flows forth from it, what is 
nourished by it, however beautifully and luxu- 
riantly it may grow, cannot be great and good, but 
must bear the germ of death and decay within. 

It is this knowledge of ourselves which humility 
gives us, that becomes not only the means of pro- 
ducing a genuine reform and change of heart, but 
that also impels us to go onward and not to rest 
satisfied at any point of progress which we have 
reached. Thus humility does not only give us a deep 
sense of our deficiencies, but impels us too, to exert 
ourselves to remove them ; whilst pride, self-com- 
placent and satisfied with all its attainments, never 
attempts a change for the better, but produces moral 
torpidity and lethargy. 

Pride and Humility differ, further, in the object 
which each desires. What is great to the one is little 
to the other. Pride or selfishness considers anything 



THE [NNER LIFE. 95 

great that more than ordinarily strikes and dazzles the 
senses, that is connected with power and honor be- 
fore the world ; or that shines and glitters, attracts 
and allures our sensual nature. Pride considers 
anything great that excites the admiration of 
our fellow-men and raises us above them, that ex- 
cites astonishment, fear, or terror ; as splendid 
talents, beauty, arts, knowledge, gold and riches, 
thrones and principalities, power and influence, 
monuments of ancient heroes and the ruins of by- 
gone ages, wars and revolutions, and all terrible 
phenomena in nature. The greatness of pride is 
therefore external, earthly, and transient; and if 
ever it desires moral greatness, it is satisfied with 
the external action ; it seeks to acquire it by single, 
disconnected, and isolated efforts that are not united 
internally by spirit or plan. 

The greatness of humility, on the other hand, is 
internal, heavenly, and permanent. Not the power 
we possess is great, nor the influence we exert, but 
the purpose by them to effect something for eter- 
nity. Otherwise both power and influence are little 
and insignificant, if compared with the power and 
efficiency of God. Not the action we perform is 
great, but the will that designs it ; not the honor 
we enjoy deserves to be called great, but the merit 
that renders us worthy of it. Not the gift we offer 
to the poor is great, but the love that disposes us 
to offer it ; not the pressing of the hand of an enemy, 
but the meekness and mildness that moves the 



96 THE HUMILITY OF 

hand. It is not the amount of our knowledge, nor 
the degree of our skill in art, nor the vigor of our 
talents, that is great, but the benevolent motive from 
which we acquire knowledge and cultivate the arts, 
and the benign purpose to which we apply them. 
The greatness of humility does not consist in a 
single action, isolated and by itself, nor in many 
disconnected actions, nor in a regular series of 
actions ; — but in that which is the never-chang- 
ing basis of all actions, which is their soul and 
source, in a purified disposition, in a sanctified 
heart, in a noble and generous will, that seeks only 
that which is good and right, which agrees with 
the will of God and pleases Him — in a will that 
seeks that which raises the destiny of man and 
brings him nearer to his Creator, and which in 
heaven as well as on earth, in a future world as 
well as in the present, before God as well as before 
man, retains its unchangeable value. This internal 
greatness is the same, whether actions represent it 
externally or not ; it is an indivisible whole and 
cannot appear in single actions ; even the best 
action gives only an unsatisfactory expression of it. 
We may succeed in exhibiting learning, strength, 
skill, art, but it is utterly impossible to exhibit 
this internal greatness ; it is only known to God, 
and though it constantly produces noble works, 
no work is equal to itself. Hence humility strug- 
gles continually to harmonize the external with the 
internal life, action with feeling, conduct with 



THE INNER LIFE. 97 

principle, daily conversation in the Avorld with the 
worship of the sanctuary. 

It is evident, that the greatness of pride is exter- 
nal and must sooner or later vanish, while that of 
humility is internal and will remain forever. There 
can be no doubt, then, but that pride leads off from 
true greatness and offers in its place a phantom, a 
mere ignis fatuns, that shines and allures, but dis- 
appears as soon as you approach to examine it. 
Yet there is also another difference, which though 
of importance and great influence on our character, 
I shall only mention in a few words. Pride desires 
what is great on its own account only; and filled 
with a desire for transient and perishable objects, 
it can never be satisfied, but must always remain 
little and contracted in its character. Humility on 
the other hand seeks all its greatness in the honor 
of God. It desires nothing on its own account, but 
w r ishes to be swallowed up in the greatness of God. 
Its character must, therefore, expand and grow in 
nobleness in proportion as it becomes more and 
more conscious of this true greatness. It does not 
disdain beauty, nor talents, nor knowledge, nor art, 
nor skill, nor power and riches ; but it rejoices in 
all of them, like the pilgrim rejoices in the flowers 
that spring up on both sides of his path. As he 
bends down with intense delight to pluck them, not 
for the purpose of keeping them, but of weaving them 
into a garland to hang around the shrine at which 
he worships, so humility rejoices in all it has, in 

9 



98 THE HUMILITY OF 

all transient and earthly greatness, to honor by it 
our Creator. 

II. I shall now, in the second place, show how pride 
and humility manifest themselves, and for the sake 
of brevity, leave my hearers to infer how the for- 
mer is prejudicial to and the latter promotive of 
true greatness. 

Our views and feelings, our purposes and our 
whole manner of thinking, are the fountain of all 
our actions and determine their moral value. These 
motives, though they are to the action what the 
soul is to the body, are invisible and cannot be 
judged of by any one, except the person who is the 
subject of them. Pride, now, or selfishness, will 
teach us to put the best construction upon them, to 
make our impure motives, our selfish intentions and 
desires, our ignoble maxims appear better than they 
are, to excuse them as having resulted from the 
unavoidable weakness and imperfection of human 
nature, or to beautify them, by calling our faults by 
milder names. Voluptuousness is but tenderness ; 
obstinacy is firmness of character; parsimony is 
economy ; calculating selfishness or craftiness is 
prudence; cruelty is j ustice ; offensive coldness is 
tranquil reason ; an entire want of charity is but 
an impartiality of judgment. 

Humility, on the other hand, manifests itself in 
an entirely different manner. It exhibits to us all 
our frailties and faults with all their consequences ; 



THE INNER LIFE, !> ! .) 

it does not induce us to deny nor to excuse them, 
but to acknowledge them. It shows that the 
cause of our faults is not without, not in circum- 
stances, not in other persons, but in us ; that it is 
our own neglect, a want of attention or devotion. 

Again : Pride manifests itself by giving us a feel- 
ing of entire security. 

It causes us to rely on our own strength and 
wisdom, and to despise all temptation and dangers. 
Deceived by it, we soon reach the highest point of 
security, where, overvaluing our moral powers, we 
no longer suspect ourselves nor fear anything 
around us. Then we neither notice the danger 
and temptation, which accompany external impres- 
sions upon us ; nor flee the opportunity of doing 
evil ; nor shun the snares, which are strewed around 
us by passion, by habit, by society, by a combina- 
tion of circumstances, by the bustle of the world, and 
by the silence of the house. Everywhere we are 
exposed to temptations, and all within us is sus- 
ceptible of being affected by these temptations ; the 
excitability of youth and the dulness of age ; the 
zeal with which we undertake a benevolent scheme, 
and the caution with which we execute it ; every 
state and character has its corresponding tempta- 
tions, and we must be constantly on our guard ; — 
but pride will not suffer us to acknowledge this 
truth ; it blinds us so that though on the brink of 
an abyss, we do not see danger, but plunge into it. 

Humility, on the other hand, keeps constantly 



100 TIIK HUMILITY OF 

awake in us the consciousness of our weakness and 
frailty. It reminds us of every error we have 
committed ; it represents to us, how we have either 
neglected or violated a duty, have left works un- 
finished, failed in our plans, or have grown cold in 
our zeal. This consciousness of our weakness for- 
bids us to consider ourselves stronger than we are, 
to risk more than we can perform. It awakens a 
just suspicion against ourselves, teaches us to avoid 
all danger, to resist resolutely the first temptation, 
to be cautious in everything, to watch over our 
hearts and give an account of every impression, 
that old or new acquaintances, known or unknown, 
near or distant objects, make upon us. It is this 
consciousness that inclines our ears to listen to 
advice ; that makes us grateful for every admoni- 
tion of friends or enemies, that disposes us to ask 
for the assistance of all our companions in conquer- 
ing our evil propensities. Thus watching over our- 
selves, over all our feelings, and views, and motives, 
over all the changes that take place in us, we shall 
grow in virtue, and piety, and greatness; yet we 
will ascribe all honor not to ourselves, but to Christ ; 
for all the aid we receive, every word that warns, 
every hand that protects us, we cannot help con- 
sidering as marks of divine grace and goodness. 

Again : Pride, placing too high a value upon 
our own actions, renders us satisfied with what we 
have done, while humility constantly impels and 
urges us to strive after higher wisdom and greatness. 



THE INNER LIFE. 101 

The Pharisee fasts twice a week and pays the 
tenth of all he has; these actions are externally 
good enough, though they may be mere ceremonies, 
forms, without the spirit which should produce 
them ; — yet the Pharisee places such a value upon 
them, that he feels satisfied with himself. Every 
deed is in the eye of pride an heroic deed ; every 
virtue one of the highest ; every victory we gain 
over ourselves, a proof of an uncommon strength 
of character and mind. Pride imagines that it 
has reached the goal, when it has but begun the 
race. If pride however should discover the same 
good qualities in another, they would appear insig- 
nificant. Yet great as everything that is good in 
us is to pride, so small also and unworthy of notice 
are the many immoral and sinful propensities we 
have. Though we may practice all kinds of injus- 
tice, be given to avarice and ambition, indulge 
envy and jealousy — if we have but one good quality, 
it will be sufficient to assuage our conscience and 
overshadow all our corruptions. Hence it is, that 
pride placing too high a value upon our own actions, 
feels satisfied with itself and relies on its own 
righteousness. 

Humility, on the other hand, is never satisfied 
with any work or with any action, that may appear 
great or good to the world. Surrounded by the 
light of grace, the feeling of our un worthiness must 
daily grow stronger, our desire for divine assistance 

9* 



102 THE HUMILITY OF 

greater, our repentance on account of sin more 
sincere. But what things were gain to me, those I 
counted loss for Christ; yea, doubtless, and I count 
all things but loss for the excellency of the know- 
ledge of Christ Jesus, my Lord ; for whom I have 
suffered the loss of all things, and do count them but 
dung that I may win Christ and be found in 
Him, not having mine own righteousness, which is 
of the law, but that which is through the faith of 
Christ, the righteousness which is of God by faith. 
(Phil. 3 : 7-9.) Humility acknowledges in Christ 
all-purifying power ; to Him it looks up in 
the hour of danger ; from Him it hopes to receive 
the impulse to good resolutions, and the strength 
to execute them ; to Him it prays for power to 
bear up under misfortunes and to go from one 
degree of perfection to another ; and always says : 
I can do all things through Christ which strength- 
ened me ; and whatever is good in my actions is His 
and not mine. 

Finally : Pride induces us to disparage our fellow- 
men and overrate ourselves in comparison w r ith 
them. 

To see what we are, we must frequently look 
upon others and see what they are ; and to know 
them we must look into our own hearts. Alone, 
entirely alone, no man w r ould be able to become 
acquainted with himself. Yet pride does not suffer 
us to compare ourselves with those that are better 
than ourselves, but only with those whom we 



THE INNER LIFE. L03 

know to be inferior, with robbers, extortioners, 
adulterers, and publicans. If however we meet 
with some excellencies in others, that we do not 
possess, pride will induce us to detract from their 
moral value in order to bring them down to a level 
with our own. 

Humility, on the other hand, points out as the 
only proper object of comparison, not one of our 
fellow-men, but Christ our Saviour ; His life, so 
richly adorned with all good works, His sufferings 
and death, so beautifully evincing His divine love 
and holiness. Christ is the ideal of all the endea- 
vors of an humble Christian ; all he does, however 
great it may appear to the world, will be insignifi- 
cant and sinful, when compared with what Christ 
has done, whose only meat and drink it was to do 
the will of His Father ; who spent His life and His 
strength for us, who like the sun, spread joy and 
happiness and life everlasting, whithersoever He 
went, who considered no w r ork too low, and no 
labor too condescending. The humble Christian, 
comparing his life with that of Christ, looks at the 
holiness and love and perfections of Christ as the 
goal of his race ; whatever lies below that is neither 
truly great nor desirable. Nor does the contrast 
which he perceives between himself and the perfec- 
tions of Christ, discourage him, for he relies on 
Divine grace, and this reliance excites him to con- 
stantly renewed efforts, revives his strength, 
increases his zeal, and carries him steadily onward. 



104 THE HUMILITY OF 

He is like a traveller who intends ascending the 
top of a high mountain for the purpose of seeing 
the sun set in all his splendor and glory. He passes 
through quiet and lovely valleys; here a little 
rivulet invites him by its murmuring waters to 
sink down and rest himself, and there swelling banks 
of moss offer him an agreeable seat ; yet he goes on, 
having the end of his journey in view. He passes 
through green and dark woods, that animated by 
the songs of birds and cooled by the refreshing 
breezes rustling among the leaves and branches, 
urge him to lie down under the shady trees 
and enjoy himself: — but he keeps the end of his 
journey in view, and pursues his way unmindful of 
his fatigue. At length he arrives at the desired 
spot; he sees the glory of the setting sun ; he reviews 
the road over which he has come; he looks with 
delight upon the smiling landscape behind him; and 
rejoices in the idea, that he was able to withstand 
all temptations to give over the execution of his 
purpose. Such a traveller is the Christian. No 
deprivation, no self-denial, no pleasure, and no 
advantageous comparison with others, can allure or 
decoy him ; he goes on not as though he had already 
attained, either were already perfect ; but he follows 
after if that he may apprehend that, for which 
also he is apprehended of Christ Jesus ; forgetting 
those things which are behind, and reaching forth 
unto those things which are before, he presses 
toward the mark for the prize of the high calling 



THE INNER LIFE. 105 

of God in Christ Jesus (Phil. 3 : 12->14) : he 
presses forward to the end of his pilgrimage and 
ceases never ; and the setting sun of his life on earth 
will be to him the rising sun of eternity. 

Let us now endeavor to turn the whole subject 
to some practical account. 

Humility, as we have seen, is the only means of 
effecting anything in life worthy of our high calling; 
it is important, therefore, that we strive with all 
our might to be in possession of it. 

1. To cultivate humility we must, above all, seek 
to become acquainted with our faults and frailties. 
Though it is not agreeable to search for them, they 
will not cease to be faults and frailties, because we 
conceal them from ourselves ; nor will they be less 
injurious to true greatness, because w^e imagine our- 
selves free from them. 

2. We must close our ears to flattery, and keep 
them open to the admonitions of friends. We feel 
much inclined to explain both praise and reproach 
to our advantage. Not only do we believe praise 
to be fully true and reproach to be ungrounded, but 
also that by the former less was said than really 
was meant ; and by the latter more. The high 
opinion w r e have of ourselves, will naturally, on the 
one hand, make us believe that we deserve all the 
praise bestowed upon us, and on the other, that 
every reproach or reprimand is uncalled for. Hence, 



106 THE HUMILITY OF 

whatever is intended as an admonition by parents, 
or teachers, or friends, is offensive and insulting to 
our aspiring mind ; does not instruct, but embitters 
us ; does not convince us, but arouses our indigna- 
tion ; does not correct our mistakes, but only con- 
firms us in them. To become humble, we must not 
only be willing to have others point out our faults, 
but we must be thankful to them for doing so, even 
though their eyes should be sharpened by envy, or 
jealousy, or ambition, and though their manner 
should not be charitable. 

3. We must examine closely those qualities in 
us, which we are in the habit of considering good. 
Perhaps they are so, externally ; but then let us ask 
in how far we owe the possession of them, either to 
circumstances that a kind providence has placed 
around us, to early education, to good examples, or 
to the immediate gift of God — and we shall soon 
discover how little merit we possess ourselves. 
Others, circumstanced as we, endowed with the 
same talents, would have effected much more than 
we have done ; though we might surpass them ex- 
ternally, in true internal greatness we would be 
below them. But, perhaps, these qualities are even 
not as good as we take them to be ; perhaps they rest 
on a selfish, proud, and corrupt basis, on a refined 
calculation of their use and worldly benefit to us ; 
perhaps they stand by the side of hate, and avarice, 
and ambition ; then, a close examination will re- 
veal to us the utter absence of goodness in them, 



THE INNER LIFE. 107 

and force us to feel bumble, instead of being proud ; 
to feel guilty, instead of self-righteous; to see sin and 
wickedness in us, instead of virtue and goodness. 

4. To become bumble, we must learn to endure 
contradictions from otbers. Contradiction is an 
element of that process by which we attain to the 
knowledge of truth, both moral and religious. It 
is contradiction that shows us, too, how much less 
our authority, our importance, our influence is, than 
we may have imagined; how much we must free 
ourselves yet from vanity ; how much we must 
labor and pray for divine assistance in our endea- 
vors to acquire true, in a word, godly greatness of 
character. 

5. Finally, to become humble we must consider 
it a truth established beyond doubt, that whenever 
we feel no kind of uneasiness concerning the state 
of our souls or concerning our character, we are 
truly in great danger. There is no one who has 
not daily, yea hourly cause to exclaim : God be 
merciful to me, a sinner. If any one should never- 
theless be able to say : I thank thee, Lord, that I 
am better than other men, he would deceive him- 
self. In proportion as we become greater in virtue, 
will we see the ideal of true greatness more dis- 
tinctly, and perceive more clearly how far off w r e 
are from it. The more tender our conscience grows 
by a holy desire to be good, the more odious will 
even the smallest offence appear to us. Entire self- 



108 THE HUMILITY OF T IJ E INNER LIFE. 

satisfaction is therefore the surest sign of entire 
unworthiness and of great danger. 

May God put it into the heart of every one pre- 
sent, to strive above all after humility, as the prin- 
cipal means of rendering his life on earth useful 
both to himself and to his fellow-men ; and may 
this endeavor ground itself in the conviction that 
as we depend upon God for life and existence, for 
support and strength, so w r e depend upon Him also 
for a change of heart, for every good feeling we 
may cherish, for every good resolution we may 
adopt, and for every good action and work we may 
perform. Amen. 



THE AUTHOR OF THE INNER LIFE AT 
JACOB'S WELL. 

John 4 : 10-15. 

"Jesus answered and said unto her, If thou knewest the gift of God, 
and who it is that saith to thee, Give me to drink, thou wouldst have 
asked of him, and he would have given thee living water. The woman 
saith unto him, Sir, thou hast nothing to draw with, and the well is 
deep : from whence then hast thou that living water? Art thou greater 
than our father Jacob, which gave us the well, and drank thereof himself, 
and his children and his cattle ? Jesus answered and said unto her, 
Whosoever drinketh of this water shall thirst again ; but whosoever 
drinketh of the water that I shall give him. shall never thirst j but the 
water that I shall give him, shall be in him a well of water springing 
up into everlasting life. The woman saith unto him, Sir, give me this 
water, that I thirst not, neither come hither to draw." 

Our life consists of two parts. One part, the 
visible, chains us to the dust; — the other, the invi- 
sible, raises us beyond the skies. We have some 
necessities, which remind us that we are dust and 
ashes ; — we have others, which convince us that a 
heaven-born spirit lives in us. The heaven-born 
spirit in us strives heavenward, strives after perfect 
freedom — after independence of everything on earth 
— after union with its Creator — after uninterrupted 
happiness : but as the outstretched wings of the 
ostrich are drawn down again to the earth by its 
heavy body, so is our higher nature drawn down 

by our sensual desires and wants. As in the dawn 

10 



110 THE AUTHOR OF THE INNER LIFE 

of the morning, light and darkness are blended, so 
our sensual wants and spiritual desires commingle; 
and this state of twilight frequently prevents us 
from seeing the pure and unmixed light of truth. 

These remarks we find verified in the Samaritan 
woman, with whom our Lord entered into a con- 
versation at Jacob's well. Her spirit partly under- 
stands Christ; — her sensual nature causes her to 
mistake his words. They sound to her heart like 
tones from a higher region, and she exclaims : 
"Give me this water that I thirst not." But 
scarcely has she spoken these words, when she 
adds : " neither come hither to draw." 

Thus, by our sensual nature, it becomes difficult 
for us to understand the opportunities which we 
frequently have, to drink of that living water, 
which quenches all thirst forever. I shall endeavor, 
in accordance with the meaning of the text, to 
point out both this difficulty and the nature of the 
living water, which springs up into everlasting life. 
We will consider — 

1. Wliat is meant hy the ivords — the gift of God. 

2. The difficulty of acknowledging the gift of God. 

3. The nature of the living water, of wltich Christ 
speaks. 

I. The gift of God, of which Christ speaks, can- 
not be His person, for He adds : " and if thou knew- 
est who it is that saith to thee, Give me to drink." 
It cannot be Christ's doctrine, for He has not yet 



at jacok's well. Ill 

given it to the woman. The gift of God, in this 
place, is simply the opportunity offered to the wo- 
man, to see and to hear Christ and to learn of Him. 
This opportunity our Saviour calls the gift of God. 
And a gift of God it was, like every other opportu- 
nity. It was not the work of the Samaritan woman 
that our Redeemer just then passed through Galilee ; 
nor is it ever our work, when of many possible coin- 
cidences just the one and no other takes place, 
w r hich suits our life best. All that we can do, is 
to accommodate our calculations for the future 
to what the present seems to indicate, and to 
make the best use of what each moment may offer 
us. But to call into existence what as yet is not, to 
mould the future, which to our eye is shrouded in 
darkness, for our designs, or to create favorable 
circumstances — this is beyond our power. If we 
could do this, we would compel the whole system 
of the world to serve the wishes of a feeble and frail 
creature. 

The opportunity is called a gift of God, because 
it is a precious and gracious favor of our Creator. 
How many went from distant countries to Judea, 
to see Him, whose fame had filled the world, and 
perhaps did not see Him, or if they saw Him, met 
Him when surrounded by thousands. The Samari- 
tan woman meets Him alone at the fountain. She 
receives the blessing, without seeking for it. The 
fruit falls down from the tree, fresh and juicy, with- 
out being shaken. What labor could not have 



112 THE AUTHOR OF THE INNER LIFE 

obtained, the opportunity gives gratuitously. A 
walk which she took daily, and which was always 
the same tedious repetition of the same thing, 
abounds this time in divine favor. Thus the op- 
portunity frequently offers what neither labor, nor 
ingenuity, nor calculation, nor wishes, nor prayers, 
nor designs could have effected. The opportunity 
gives it without labor on our part, and in a 
moment. 

The opportunity is not only a gift of God, but 
it also leads our minds up to God. The Samari- 
tan woman had gone to draw water to quench her 
natural thirst, but instead of this, living water is 
offered to her, which springs up into everlasting life. 
There is no doubt, but happy circumstances of every 
kind may exert a favorable influence on our souls 
and are likely to exert it, if we are good men. But 
sometimes it appears as if these circumstances were 
designed and particularly created to operate favor- 
ably on our salvation. Without seeking, without 
praying, a beam of light, a stream of power, a breath 
of life may fall upon our hearts, just when we are 
in great danger of committing a sin, or of making a 
mistake ; suddenly, unexpectedly, we are strength- 
ened j our reason sees more clearly ; our will receives 
a new direction, more noble, more dignified, and 
our whole life is benefited in one single moment. 
Such an opportunity, such favorable circumstances, 
we call a gift of God, a precious, a special favor of 
our Creator. 



AT JACOB'S WELL. 113 

II. But it is difficult to understand our opportu- 
nity and make a proper use of it. As glittering 
gold in the hand of the magician is changed into 
useless charcoal, before we can touch it, so may 
favorable circumstances change and assume an 
opposite character, before we have improved them. 

To 'understand our opportunity means to use it 
without delay; to perceive how the present cir- 
cumstances are adapted to our situation, to our 
wishes, to our designs; to hear in them a call, 
coming from God, who will assist us in the work 
we have before us, who w r ill lead us to connections, 
to possessions, to enjoyments, which, without such 
circumstances, we would not be able to obtain. It 
is to feel that we are under obligations, to use 
that most carefully to realize the destination of our 
life, which is best calculated to facilitate our labor. 
To understand our opportunity means, to eternize 
the favorable moment, at least in its effects, 
since it is itself fleeting, and since we cannot retard 
the wheel of time, which rolls on without inter- 
mission. The condition, constitution, and destiny 
of every man has something peculiar to itself, 
and circumstances favorable to one may not be so 
to another. We must therefore not expect that 
our opportunity will be just the same as that, 
which another has had, but every man has an op- 
portunity peculiar to himself and to his situation. 
To understand our opportunity means, therefore, 
to direct our whole attention to whatever may 

10* 



114 THE AUTHOR OF THE INNER LIFE 

ripen for us in the bosom of time ; to whatever may 
be advantageous to our welfare, in time and eter- 
nity, be it small or great, here or there, now or 
hereafter. 

Hence it is necessary to watch our opportunity. 
Favorable circumstances, fortunate junctures, 
happy occurrences, are for the life of man what 
good weather is for the husbandman. If the weather 
is good and clear, the grain ripens quickly, and 
without care or trouble, the laborers go forth cheer- 
fully and joyfully to reap it. Thus it is when 
Providence smiles upon us. Then the right thoughts 
come easily. Then we enter the right way without 
difficulty; then what we need falls into our hands. 
Labor requires no reflection, and succeeds never- 
theless. What at other times would bring us loss, 
now brings us gain. But these moments are but short, 
and pass by rapidly. The state of favorable cir- 
cumstances which we might improve, changes sud- 
denly, and then the opportunity is gone. Nor do 
these favors of Providence return very frequently. 
They are rare, and sometimes present themselves 
but once throughout our whole life. To lose them 
once is to lose them forever. How much then de- 
pends on the understanding of our opportunity for 
our own peace, for our happiness, and that of our 
connections, for the success of our activity, and even 
for the salvation of our souls! 

But it is difficult to understand our opportunity, 
or to discern the circumstances favorable to us. 



at Jacob's well. 115 

There is a tide in the affairs of men, which, taken 
at its height, leads on to fortune. Such a tide oc- 
curs in the affairs of all men, but they are not 
always prepared to take it at its height. An op- 
portunity sometimes suprises us in an unfavorable 
moment, when we feel fatigued, or when we are 
too much excited or overcome by passion. We then 
cannot discern quickly nor reflect coolly. At other 
times the opportunity seems to be something diffe- 
rent from what it really is. What has a tendency 
to relieve us may appear as a source of embarrass- 
ment. What is intended to revive us may appear 
to be like a damper on our spirits. Gain may look 
like loss. Means to deliver our souls from their 
reproachful chains may look like another fetter. 
Children whom we teach, and from whom we would 
never expect instruction, may give us an impulse 
to piety. An apparent misfortune may be instru- 
mental in bringing about our eternal salvation and 
happiness. 

Thus Christ appears before the Samaritan woman 
without any signs of distinction, like a common man 
in form and habit, solitary, without pretence to 
power or might, a Jew, one that belongs to that 
nation which hated the Samaritans, and carefully 
avoided all intercourse with them. And yet so poor 
in His appearance, Christ, the Saviour, presented 
Himself to her. 

! that our hearts may be pure, and our will be 
sanctified, that in every occurrence of life we may 



116 THE AUTHOR OF THE INNER LIFE 

perceive the hand of God, and consider nothing as 
unimportant .; that we may also remember our home 
beyond the skies, and bring everything with which 
we come into contact, into a relation to our eternal 
destination ! Then shall we never have cause for 
the complaint, that our opportunity, which no grief 
and no repentance can recall, has passed by unim- 
proved. 

III. We ask, in the third place, what was the 
peculiar nature of the living water, which the Sa- 
maritan woman had an opportunity to ask Christ for ? 
And here we shall find, that it has tioo peculiar and 
principal qualities. The one is this: it does not 
only refresh us when we are thirsty, like all other 
water, but it satisfies our thirst entirely, and so 
that we shall never thirst again. The other is that, 
being living water, it has a creative power; it renews 
our whole existence. As a spark falling upon a 
combustible substance kindles a new flame like the 
one from which it came, so the living water when 
received, becomes a fountain in us springing up into 
eternity. 

But how can it quench the thirst forever? Does 
not every one of us ask thus? 

It satisfies our thirst forever, because it is pure 
and unmixed. In the world we see commingled 
strength and weakness, virtue and vice, truth and 
error, joy and sorrow, rest and fatigue, hope and 
despair, light and darkness, life and death. There 



at Jacob's well. 117 

is nothing pure, and nothing perfect; everything 
has its wants, and every gratification leaves some 
uneasiness in our mind from which new wants and 
new desires may arise again; like the fabled Phoenix 
which never dies, but always revives from its own 
ashes. 

The living water satisfies our thirst forever, be- 
cause it is always rich and always cheering, gives us 
what we need, and satisfies us whenever w r e enjoy 
anything through it. In the world you can some- 
times not obtain what you need most, and fre- 
quently whilst you are surrounded by abundance 
you can make no use of it; like Tantalus, before 
whose scorched lips the waters that play around 
his chin, retire as soon as he bends his head to 
drink of them. 

The living water quenches our thirst forever, 
because it flows freely and eternally. In the world 
many pleasures are unnatural, and forced upon our 
appetites ; knowledge and virtue, good works and 
honors, festivals and amusements, are mostly or 
ever short-lived and frail — the products of time and 
its victims. And even the sources of all our earthly 
enjoyments frequently dry up and disappear en- 
tirely. 

The living water satisfies our thirst forever, be- 
cause it blesses those that drink it ; because it fills 
our souls with the peace of God, that surpasses all 
knowledge; because it secures to us our eternal salva- 
tion, and frees us from all fear, from all care, from all 
trouble, from all anxiety; raises our minds up be- 



118 THE AUTHOR OF THE INNER LIFE. 

yond the skies; purifies our feelings; sanctifies our 
will; makes us seek for what is eternal, and scorn 
what is merely frail, and vain, and decaying. 

It satisfies our thirst forever, because, finally, it 
becomes a living fountain in us, springing up into 
everlasting life. Let us follow up this idea for a 
moment. 

What is it that men thirst very much for? Men 
thirst for strength or power, that they may use it 
according to their circumstances, according to their 
wishes, and according to their sphere of action. 
Whoever drinks of the living water, receives that 
strength, which as a supreme power within excites 
and directs all his faculties and talents to the glory 
of God — which unites all his scattered energies in 
the service of our Lord. Strength, derived from 
the living water, is the consciousness of our divine 
origin — of protection by our Saviour in all our 
troubles and tribulations and dangers — of the 
entire independence of our free souls on any power 
or force or might on earth. Whilst every other 
kind of strength is diminished or even annihilated 
by fatigue and exhaustion, this strength increases 
by struggles, and never changes, except when it 
gains in energy. 

Men thirst for the greatest amount of know- 
ledge and experience, acquired by their own obser- 
vation and the observation of others. Through 
Christ we receive that knowledge which alone can 
satisfy the longings of the spirit. The knowledge 



at Jacob's well, 1 1!) 

of Christ reveals to us the secret of our life, our 
destiny after death, and guides us through this 
dark and desolate world as the polar star guides 
the sailor on the pathless ocean. It is this know- 
ledge that gives value to all other knowledge. 
Without it, all our wisdom is encircled by time and 
space, and in time and in space it must perish ; — 
with it, all our knowledge enters into relation to 
eternity and partakes of its nature. 

Men desire a good name ; they frequently wish, 
by the observance of what is upright and honest, to 
be regarded by their families and by their neigh- 
bors, as models of virtue. It is, however, only 
through the living water of Christ, that we may 
become really virtuous. Real virtue is that holy 
disposition of heart to do what is right from no other 
motive and for no other purpose, than because it is 
right — because we love the law of God. This dis- 
position regulates our thoughts, elevates our feel- 
ings, determines our actions, and directs our minds 
constantly to the will of our Creator. 

Men desire enjoyments, derived from social inter- 
course, from the beauties of nature, from art, from 
science, from the favor of fortune. But these are 
unsatisfying. From the living water of Christ 
flows that joy, which is an uninterrupted feeling of 
well-being, a feeling of security, of happiness, that 
can never end. Wherever the Christian places his 
foot, he steps on flowers. He has his secret festi- 
vals, of which the world knows nothing. He lives 



120 THE AUTHOR OF THE INNER LIFE 

on earth indeed, but carries heaven in his bosom. 
His days are sometimes gloomy, but a cheerful and 
friendly light shines into his bosom. This joy does 
not forsake the Christian even in the hour of afflic- 
tion. It breathes in all his feelings and animates 
them. When the world around him trembles, 
Christ distils the water of heavenly peace on his 
heart. Should the earth sink beneath his feet and 
the heavens from above burst on his head, he would 
still rejoice in his Redeemer and exclaim, Dust 
may return to dust, my soul flies heavenward. 
What a joy is that of the Christian, who knows 
that God leads him, controls his destiny, forgives 
his sins for Christ's sake, and embraces him in the 
fulness of grace. that every one of us may have 
this joy and cherish it in his bosom! 

Men, finally, in every stage of their lives, and 
under all circumstances, hope and eagerly grasp at 
every gleam of hope. But many and cheering as are 
those hopes by which we overcome one difficulty 
after another, by which we climb from hill to hill, 
and by which we pass from point to point, — all 
these hopes are frail and vain without that hope, 
which is nourished by the living water of Christ — 
the hope, that Christ shall come, to reveal His 
glory and all those many mysteries of life, which 
now surround us like buds not yet opened ; that 
Christ shall come to unite the past and the future 
in a single point, which shall be full of light and 
truth, without darkness or error, and shine on for- 



at Jacob's well. 121 

ever. This is the hope, that when all other hopes 
forsake us, will stand by us, cheer our last gloomy 
moments, and plant the tree of life on the grave 
that imbosoins our remains. 

One desire of men, however, I seem to have for- 
gotten, the common and all-prevailing desire for 
riches. But what are riches and possessions ? What 
is w r ealth and money ? We enjoy them at most but 
till we die. Naked, poor, and helpless we enter this 
world, and naked, poor, and helpless we must part 
with it. Napoleon grasped at the four quarters of 
the globe, and his body now needs no more than six 
feet of soil to rest in ; a golden crown rested on 
his head, but now only four weeping-willows over- 
hang his grave with their spreading branches. 

" This life's not worth having with all it can give — 
For something beyond it poor man sure must live." 

No one dies richer than another, unless he has 
drunk of the living water. He is rich in the grace 
of our Heavenly Father, in the love of the Son, and 
in the hope of salvation and everlasting blessedness. 

We have seen the peculiar nature of this living 
water, and ask now : where shall we find it ? For 
we too find it tedious to be constantly in need, to 
labor daily for the same wants, always to replace 
something that has been consumed, to repair what 
has been broken, to seek what has been lost, to fill 
what has been emptied ; we too would like to drink 
of the living water and thirst no more. Where can 
we find it ? 

11 



122 THE AUTHOR OF THE INNER LIFE 

Not in the depths of the human mind, nor in the 
strength of our perceptions, nor in the magnitude 
of our talents, nor in the multitude of our natural 
gifts : — there we may often find buds, but rarely 
fruit. Neither can we find it in the studies of the 
philosopher, nor in the libraries of the learned, nor 
in the academies of science : — there much is sought 
for, but little is found. Neither can we find it in the 
calculations of prudence, nor in the fashions of life, 
nor in the merit of good works : — there there is 
much show, but little reality. Neither is it to be 
found on the tables of the rich, nor in the drinking- 
room of the debauchee, nor in the treasuries of 
kings : — there is frequently much feasting, but 
little enjoyment. We cannot find it on the face of 
the earth, nor in ourselves; w^e must look heaven- 
ward — to the love of Him, w r ho has given us His 
Son. The life of Christ, His submission to the 
Father's will, His love with all His sufferings in our 
stead: — this is the living water, whose nature is so 
miraculous. Would you drink of it? Then receive 
the life of Christ in you ; let Him reign in you ; let 
Him influence your thoughts, your judgments, your 
life, your sufferings, and your will in all its de- 
terminations and resolutions. Let Him sustain you 
when you are afflicted, satisfy your wants when 
you are in need, and strengthen you when you are 
weak. Do not put off receiving Christ until you 
are old, until your energies are exhausted and the 
hour of adversity has come: but do like the pru- 






AT JACOB'S WELL. 123 

dent citizen, who opens the well before his house in 
time, in order to have a supply of water when fire 
breaks out — receive Christ in your youth. Do not 
sutler one day to pass by without Christ ; fill your 
heart with love to truth, to righteousness, and 
above all with gratitude, that He has suffered for 
you and redeemed you from sin. 

And especially to you, my young friends, who 
are in the bloom of life, and many of whom have 
resolved to devote themselves to the Lord, I would 
say : — watch your opportunity of drinking from the 
fountain of living water. Your conscience may 
give you this opportunity, or the example and walk 
of bad men as well as of good men, or a word spoken 
undesignedly. The Lord may approach you in the 
beauty of nature, in the majestic sunrise, in the 
freshness of spring, or in the melancholy of autumn, 
or in His holy word. You may stand high or low, 
you may be sick or well, rich or poor, happy or un- 
fortunate : the Lord will give every one of you his 
opportunity. Keep your eyes open, your judgment 
unbiassed, and seize it when, where, and under what- 
ever form it may present itself. Perhaps you will be 
favored but once in your life with circumstances so 
favorable as to make it easy for you to embrace the 
Lord : if you suffer that time to pass by unimproved, 
you will lose what you will never be able to regain, 
neither by prayer, nor repentance, nor labor. 
Your youth will pass away, your strength will de- 
crease, your eyes will become dim, your knees will 



124 THE AUTHOR OF THE INNER LIFE, ETC. 



begin to totter, the sources of your sensual pleasure 
will dry up, your remembrance of the past will 
grow weak, and your head, like ripe fruit, will bend 
towards the grave. Take but one draught of the 
living water, and you will never grow old, but al- 
ways feel young, cheerful, and strong, and your 
death will be like a slumber from which you shall 
awake only to see the glory of our Saviour and 
the abounding grace of our Heavenly Father. May 
God bless you and every one of us. 



THE AUTHOR OF THE INNER LIFE 
AS A SERVANT. 

John 13 : 1-17. 

" Now before the feast of the Passover, when Jesus knew that His 
hour was come that He should depart out of this world unto the Father, 
having loved His own which were in the world, He loved them unto the 
end. And supper being ended, the devil having now put into the 
heart of Judas Iscariot, Simon's son, to betray Him ; Jesus knowing 
that the Father had given all things into His hands, and that He was 
come from God and went to God; He riseth from supper, and laid 
aside His garments ; and took a towel and girded Himself. After that 
He poureth water into a basin, and began to wash the disciples' feet, and 
to wipe them with the towel wherewith He was girded. Then cometh 
He to Simon Peter : and Peter saith unto Him, Lord, dost Thou wash 
my feet? Jesus answered and said unto him, What I do thou knowest 
not now, but thou shalt know hereafter. Peter saith unto Him, Thou 
shalt never wash my feet. Jesus answered him, If I wash thee not, thou 
hast no part with me. Simon Peter saith unto Him, Lord, not my feet 
only, but also my hands and my head. Jesus saith to him, He that is 
washed, needeth not save to wash his feet, but is clean every whit : and 
ye are clean, but not all. For He knew who should betray Him ; there- 
fore said He, Ye are not all clean. So after he had washed their feet, 
and had taken His garments, and was set down again, he said unto 
them, Know ye what I have done to you ? Ye call me Master and 
Lord: and ye say well; for so I am. If I then, your Lord and Master, 
have washed your feet, ye also ought to wash one another's feet. For 
I have given you an example, that ye should do as I have done to you. 
Verily, verily, I say unto you, the servant is not greater than his lord ; 
neither he that is sent greater than He that sent him. If ye know these 
things, happy are ye if ye do them." 

To-day I bring before your eyes a picture as 

lovely and attractive; as the history of our Lord on 

11* 



126 THE AUTHOR OF THE INNER LIFE 

earth exhibits anywhere ; I intend to show you 
our dear Redeemer in his greatest humility. I will 
lead you to that sacred circle of saints, surrounding 
Christ shortly before the commencement of His great 
sufferings for our sins, and I will show you how 
Christ, full of love, and full of the most tender 
interest in the fate and success of His disciples after 
His death, and resurrection, and glorification, teaches 
them by deed, and not merely by words and doc- 
trines, that of all qualities, humbleness is the most 
necessary for His ministers, and that it is the high- 
est external sign of genuine love within. 

We will consider : 1. The import of the passage I 
have read to you ; 2. The occasion given for 
Christ washing the disciples' feet ; 3. The symboli- 
cal meaning of the act. 

The Import. — The nearer the day approached on 
which Christ was to expire on the cross, the stronger, 
the more fervent was His love to His disciples. 
The Saviour appears in this respect entirely like 
one of us, accessible to all the feelings of pain, of 
love, and of desire, only more pure and more 
heavenly. Thus He had a great desire once more 
and for the last time on this earth, to celebrate the 
Passover with His beloved disciples. Our Saviour 
was not a Stoic, and his going to the death of the 
cross was no Stoicism. He could sympathize with 
the beloved; He could weep with the mournful, 
and rejoice with the happy. With a prayer He 



AS A SERVANT. 127 

opens the meal ; all lie around Him, and we natu- 
rally feel anxious to know what the conversation 
may have been in these last and precious moments. 
But see, Christ rises! What may He wish to do? 
He lays aside His garments, He takes a towel and 
girdeth Himself like a servant. Is He no longer 
the Lord, into whose hand the Father hath given 
all things, and who knows that He has come from 
God, and that He is going to God ? Transfer your- 
selves for a moment into the situation of the dis- 
ciples. They had frequently seen their Master act 
without uttering many words ; they had seen Him 
in the greatest humility ; they had seen Him 
among sinners, among the poor, among the lowest 
in rank. But now He appears before them, stripped 
of all glory, in the dress of a servant : how must 
their expectation have been raised? How much 
more must they have been astonished, when they 
saw Him commence washing their own feet ? What 
mind is capable of comprehending such love, such 
humbleness, such mildness! See Him, to whom 
belong glory and honor, equal to that of the 
Father, bending down in love to His disciples 
and performing for them a service, disgusting in 
itself and belonging to the office of those only 
whom poverty and misfortune had pressed down to 
a condition of servitude. How sweet must it 
be to serve now, when He whom angels praise and 
adore, goes as a servant with water in His hand, 
from disciple to disciple, to wash their feet ! How 



128 THE AUTHOR OF THE INNER LIFE 

sweet must it be now, to perform even the lowest 
of all services, when He, who is the greatest on 
earth and who has none beyond Him in Heaven, 
serves those in His love, who live and breathe only 
through Him. The heavens smile down on Him, 
the Father's eye rests with delight on Him; He 
knows that He comes from God and goes to God, 
and yet He makes Himself the lowest of all. As 
the light of the sun enlightens and warms all that 
lives through it, and does not withhold its reviving 
and blessed rays from any plant in nature, so does 
the love of Christ sink into the bosom of every one, 
in every condition and relation of life, and call forth 
into existence, love, devotion, and happiness. 

The Occasion. — What gave the occasion for this 
humble action of Christ ? The opinions of divines 
are divided on this question. Some say, that 
the disciples, though pious and faithful, though 
thoroughly acquainted with the dignity of their 
Master and the object of His dwelling among men, 
could nevertheless not altogether abandon the idea, 
that Christ would establish an earthly kingdom, 
and that in it He would distribute the different 
offices of the highest honor among His disciples. 
Hence it was necessary to dissipate these false hopes. 
But if such had been the case, would not the words 
of Christ, " That ye may eat and drink at my table 
in my kingdom, and sit on thrones judging the 
twelve tribes of Israel" (Luke 22 : 30), have 



AS A SERVANT. 129 

had a tendency to strengthen their earthly and 
sensual hopes ? And further : how cruel and selfish 
would it have been in the disciples, if in an hour so 
near the great sufferings of our Lord, they would 
have thought more of their own honor and glory, 
and rank, than of their kind and benignant Master ! 
I confess, that I could neither love nor revere the 
disciples, if they were guilty of such a cruelty. 

As we may infer from Luke, a contention had 
arisen among the disciples concerning their places 
at the table. As the stars are attracted by the sun, 
so was every disciple irresistibly drawn by Christ, 
and each one desired to sit nearest to his Master. 
The contention arose then from love, and we are 
inclined to excuse errors arising from such a source, 
for we think that love can never sin. The disciples, 
conscious of this, exhibited, perhaps, each one his 
superior claims to a seat nearest to the Saviour, 
and highest in Christ's kingdom. Love caused them 
to err, and by an act of love our Redeemer in- 
tended to correct their error ; and teach them that 
hereafter no one should any longer consider him- 
self superior to another, since the Master had made 
Himself the servant of His servants. 

The view I have taken, will become more clear 
by looking at some of the individual characters, by 
which Christ was surrounded. 

Our eye running over this holy circle, is first 
arrested by Judas. " The Devil having now put 
it into the heart of Judas, Simon's son, to betray 



130 THE AUTHOR OF THE INNER LIFE 

Him." John in relating this circumstance, intend- 
ed, no doubt, to exhibit the love and humbleness 
of Christ in the most striking opposition to the 
daring arrogance of sin in Judas. " The Devil 
had put it into the heart of Judas." It was not 
merely a sinful thought that passed through his 
mind ; bad thoughts may even sometimes fill the 
consciousness of the good and the pious, whose per- 
sonality, however, not being affected, overcomes 
these thoughts by the power of prayer, as so many 
a beautiful legend tells us in the form of the most 
lovely poetry. But the Devil had put it into the 
heart of Judas. The heart is the centre of our 
personality ; it is the fountain, from which come 
forth our inclinations and wishes, our desires and 
passions; this fountain being poisoned, all possi- 
bility of piety and salvation is destroyed ; this 
fountain being in the power of Satan, hatred 
against the Lord must be absolute, permanent, and 
unchangeable. As Christ is the absolute love, so is 
Judas the absolute hatred ; and as Christ saves the 
sinner by assuming his nature, so Judas, under the 
pretext of love, by a kiss, executes his sinful 
design, and draws what is holy and good, into the 
sphere of corruption and pollution. Never did the 
sun shine upon a spectacle like the one before us : 
Christ knows, that Judas will betray Him, but still 
He approaches him in love; Judas, with a heart full 
of hatred, quietly accepts this token of love, and 
thus hardens his heart more and more ; for this is 



AS A SERVANT. 131 

the curse, inflicted on sin, that in its selfishness, it 

must convert even what is most pure, into its own 
nature ; this is the curse inflicted on sin, that one 
bad deed must beget another, and that the sinner 
enchains himself by a series of his own wicked 
deeds, each of which is but the consequence of the 
one which preceded it. 

Let us turn our eyes away from this sight, and 
let us fix them upon him whom Christ loves, 
upon John. Though it is not said, with which dis- 
ciple Christ commenced the washing of feet, it is 
likely that John received this sign of love first. 
He does not oppose Christ in what He is about to 
do ; he lives so entirely in his Saviour, his will is 
so entirely absorbed in that of his Master, that, 
like the star which seems to have no light of its 
own in the presence of the sun, he has no will 
before Christ, but suffers Him to dispose of his 
limbs as well as of his heart. that we all were 
like John, and would never oppose Christ, when 
He desires to perform His work in us ! 

In Peter another instructive sight presents itself 
to us. I would like to give you this instruction in 
a few words : Every virtue that proceeds from our 
own will, and not from the love of God in us and from 
love to God, is in the eye of Christ a vice. The 
highest virtues of a Stoic or of an atheist are, 
according to Augustine, but so many splendid 
vices. Peter loves Christ; his zeal for Him is 
unlimited ; but he is not yet delivered altogether 



132 THE AUTHOR OF THE INNER LIFE 

from his own will. The decided character of Peter 
rendered it difficult for Him to yield his will so to 
that of Christ, as if he had none of his own. In 
this instance, he is misled by a false modesty, a 
modesty that would still be praiseworthy, were not 
obedience to our Lord much more so. This is a 
great and a very important truth. Love does not 
accept anything, unless the love of God in man has 
effected and granted it ; hence it is, that Christ 
does not accept the modesty of Peter. Peter seeing 
that he has done w r rong, at once goes to the other 
extreme, exclaiming, Lord, not my feet only, but 
also my hands and my head. Thus the w r ill of 
Peter yields indeed to Christ, but presents itself 
again in another peculiar aspect. Christ intends 
to wash His feet only, but Peter desires Him now 
to wash his hands and head too. This is the nature 
of self-will ; you limit it on one side only that it 
may run on the other into the opposite extreme. 
And this is the dust of sin that still adheres to 
Peter's feet ; though he is washed everywhere else, 
though he is regenerated, yet, unless Christ wash 
off this dust, Peter cannot have any part in His 
kingdom. 

Having cast a glance upon Judas, upon John, 
and upon Peter, let us cast one likewise upon Christ 
Jesus Himself, who, in the midst of His disciples, 
is the centre, around which they all move. John, 
who so frequently calls Christ the light of the world, 
the water, and the bread of life, delights manifestly 



AS A SERVANT. 133 

in representing Him in his highest glory — in his 
greatest humility. Hence he adds the beautiful 
and most glorious words : " Knowing that the Fa- 
ther had given all things into his hands, and that 
He was come from God, and went to God." (v. 3.) 
No poetry, no richness of thought, nor of language, 
no fancy nor any imagination, could have plucked 
a finer laurel anywhere, to twine around the fore- 
head of our blessed Saviour, than John did in these 
few and simple words. In the full consciousness of 
His highest glory and majesty, it is accordingly, 
that Christ descends into the most concealed depth 
of a Judas, and washes his feet ; in this consciousness 
it is, that He enters into the condition of a servant, 
in order to raise our race np to Him. But such is 
the nature of love ; it enters into the relations and 
condition of its object, and unites itself with it so 
entirely, that though still two, they nevertheless 
are but one. 

The Symbolical Meaning. — From the words, 
which Christ spoke to Peter : " If I wash thee not, 
thou hast no part with me," it appears that the feet- 
washing of our Saviour was not a common one; 
else these words would have been too severe, too 
hard, for Peter. As Baptism is an external sign 
under which our spiritual regeneration is repre- 
sented, and as this spiritual meaning of baptism can 
only be understood by the spiritual man, and not by 
him, who perceives merely the water, so likewise has 

12 



134 THE AUTHOR OF THE INNER LIFE 

the feet-washing of our Saviour a symbolical mean- 
ing, which is intelligible only to the spirit within us. 
Whilst Baptism is the sign of our general regene- 
ration, feet-washing is the sign by which the mis- 
takes, errors, and sins, to which even the most 
pious among us are still exposed, are represented as 
forgiven and pardoned by the immeasurable love of 
Christ. Such an assurance the disciples of Christ, 
who were soon to be separated from Him on earth, 
were especially in need of, lest their smaller errors 
would have caused them to be discouraged in their 
great undertaking. Daily we sin, and daily do we 
stand in need of that love, which alone can wash 
away the sins, which like the dust on our feet, 
rests on our conscience. But bear in mind, that it 
is Peter and not Judas, upon whom feet-washing 
has this effect ; little will therefore depend upon 
the fact, whether we perform this ceremony daily 
upon ourselves and our friends, or not, if we only 
have the spirit with which it was performed by our 
Lord. The performance itself is unnecessary, since 
we do not find it introduced, like Baptism or the 
Lord's Supper, into the Apostolical Church, and since 
climatic differences and our sexual relations would 
render its performance in our situation almost im- 
possible, at least highly improper. 

May, therefore, in the place of merely external 
forms and ceremonies, that spirit descend upon us, 
which renders the great humble, and the humble 
great; may our small circle be devoted to the Lord, 



AS A SERVANT. 

as the disciples were; may each one of us love, ad- 
mire, and imitate our great Master. Like John, 
may every one of us say, Here are my thoughts, 
Lord ! reign in them ; here are my senses, sanctify 
them ; here is my will, make it thine own ; here 
are the members of my body, dispose of them. 
Here is my life, extend it or shorten it, call me 
away to-day, or to-morrow, only grant that I may 
live to Thee and die in Thy name, my dear Saviour ! 
Especially may all of you, who intend to become 
ministers of Christ Jesus, be humble, and be the 
servants of every one, for Christ's sake, on every 
occasion, in every proper way, and with all your 
power, until death. Amen. 



THE AUTHOR OF THE INNER LIFE BEARING 
HIS CROSS. 

John 19 : 16-18. 

' ; Then delivered he Him therefore unto them to be crucified, and they 
took Jesus, and led Him away. And He bearing His cross went forth 
into a place called the place of a skull, which is called in the Hebrew, 
Golgotha : wdiere they crucified Him, and two others with Him, on either 
side one, and Jesus in the midst." 

How would we feel if we had never heard of a 
suffering Redeemer, if we had never read of Him, 
and He were now for the first time to be named 
to us? 

When we were yet children, we were led to Gol- 
gotha : then already we received some impressions, 
though we had no measure by which to estimate 
the height and depth of such sufferings. 

Afterwards Christ was often represented to us ; 
we grew in knowledge; but the first impression 
which we received of Christ in our earliest child- 
hood, and upon which so much depends, was not 
deep enough. It is perhaps on this account, that 
we were never so deeply moved, never so entirely 
absorbed in grief by looking upon our Saviour s 
sufferings, as we often are in common life, when 
losing a brother, or a kind parent, or a friend. 



THE INNER LIFE. 137 

What once is past, we can not redeem. That 
first impression, of which I speak, we can not 
recall. But to-day we will endeavor to receive a 
full impression of the mournful walk of our Saviour 
hearing his cross to Golgotha. For this purpose, let 
all earthly wishes and desires be silent in our 
breasts ; let us forget the world and its vanity, and 
enter into meditation. Let us imagine that we see 
around us Gethsemane and Golgotha ; and let us 
walk by the side of our Lord when He carries the 
cross. 

May the Lord sanctify our hearts, grant our 
desires, and fill us with faith and holy love. 
Amen. 

Our text does not contain many words. But 
when I read them, it seems to me as if I were 
standing on a mountain, the surface of which is 
poor and barren, but whose bowels are filled with 
beautiful and shining gold. Light we need to en- 
ter mines; and faith we need to understand the 
secret counsels of God, and to see the beautv and 
the depth of words, that externally look sterile. 
I shall enter into the particulars of my text, and 
ask you to follow me in love and in patience. 

And they took Jesus. — Here already we must 
stop and ask : Who is He whom they took ? 

Man is created to live. But a man may forfeit 
his noble destiny by the commission of crimes, and 
his fellow-men may deem it right and expedient 

12* 



138 THE AUTHOR OF THE INNER LIFE 

for their own safety to hurry him away from the 
face of the earth into the shades of death. The 
thought is an awful one, and we tremble whenever 
it is realized in a fellow-being. 

When, however, one who is innocent falls a 
victim to mere suspicion ; when some noble one 
is sacrificed to a spirit of persecution ; when one is 
so unfortunate as to surpass the genius of his age 
and to be led to death by an erroneous opinion 
or by the malice of his contemporaries, like a Huss, 
we are struck with fear and terror. 

And ivho loas He whom they took ? He w r as 
Christ, promised by the Word of God, for whom all 
ages had been hoping and praying ; He was the 
Saviour of the human race and the Son of God, 
through whom the Father was pleased to take pity 
on His fallen children. He, the most pure and 
holy, is condemned by the most impure and unholy. 
The Lord of Heaven is sentenced to death by the 
creatures of the dust. Love is sacrificed by hatred. 
The blessings which He bestowed are reciprocated 
by scorn, by reproach and contempt, and by the in- 
fliction of pain. " But when the husbandmen saw 
him, they reasoned among themselves, saying, This 
is the heir, come, let us kill him, that the inheri- 
tance may be ours. So they cast him out of the 
vineyard and killed him." They slew the only son. 

They took Jesus. — Who were they ? Who took 
Him ? Who slew Him ? 

The accusers and witnesses, the judge and the 



BEARING HIS CROSS. 139 

servants — all were alike. No one had a heart to 
feel, no one the nobleness to venture anything for 
an innocent man, for the Son of God. 

And now He is delivered over into the hands, of 
the Romans. Rowan soldiers receive Him and exe- 
cute the sentence given by a Roman judge. Thus 
He is in the hands of heathen, as if the Jews were 
no longer worthy to have Him, who was theirs by 
prophecy and by birth. They have succeeded in 
thrusting Him out among men, who were strangers 
to true dignity; whose dark bosoms were shut 
against the entrance of any light ; whose hands 
were as rough as the sword which they were 
accustomed to handle ; and who, hardened by the 
constant sight of misery and injustice, had sunk so 
low as to be the vile servants of tyranny, and were 
without mercy, and without feeling. 

And they took Jesus, and led Him away. The 
court-house was in the eastern part of the city, to- 
wards the Mount of Olives ; the place of execution 
was in the west, before the gate. The way is said 
to have been at least a mile long, and to have ex- 
tended through nearly the whole breadth of the 
city. It was expressively called the Street of Grief 
or of pain. And even yet, after two thousand years 
have almost passed by, pious pilgrims may see the 
ruins of Pilate's palace, the place where Simon took 
the cross, and the region where the women stood, 
weeping over the Lord. 



]40 THE AUTHOR OF THE INNER LIFE 

With what feelings did our Saviour walk through 
this street ! Through those streets He had to go, 
in which His voice had so often been heard, pro- 
claiming salvation ; where He had so often wrought 
miracles ; where He had scattered so many mercies 
around Him ; and where His name had so often 
been praised by those whom He had blessed. 

What must have been His feelings when He 
passed by the temple, which He had rendered holy 
by His preaching, and which He had consecrated 
as the prototype of the future kingdom of God? 
The evening before the Jews celebrate the feast of 
their deliverance, He who had come to deliver them 
effectually and forever, is led to the death of the 
cross. He shall not be in the midst of them, when 
they enjoy their feast — He who alone could have 
changed their days of festivity into days of eternal 
joy. What pain and sadness must Christ have felt 
under such reflections ! 

How must He have felt when He went forth into 
Golgotha, and all that w x ere in Jerusalem turned 
their eyes upon Him, as upon a criminal, though 
He was Jesus Christ, our Anointed Redeemer. 
Jesus He w r as, who had given sight to the blind, 
hearing to the deaf, and who had called the dead 
back to life again ; Jesus He was, who had been 
listened to the day before with enthusiasm, and 
whom but a short time before the multitude had 
saluted w r ith a loud Hosanna. Now they are silent. 
Their applause has been changed into reproach; 



LEAKING IIIS CROSS. 141 

their admiration into scorn; their confidence into 
despair. And yet He was even then Jesus, as great 
as He ever was before. 

And He bearing His cross went forth. Whoever 
was condemned to die the death of the cross, had 
to carry it, not indeed the whole of it, but only its 
fork or cross-piece, which was to be fastened to the 
upright beam, already fixed in its place. Jesus, 
also, the Saviour of men, bending down under an 
unworthy burden, carries the accursed wood. 

But strength forsakes Him. He cannot walk 
any further under the load. Simon, a Lybian, a 
native of Cyrene, where many thousands of Jews 
lived, all of whom were accustomed to go to their 
synagogues in Jerusalem, meets them. Perhaps he 
looked with pity on our bleeding, exhausted Sa- 
viour. A tear perhaps was visible in his eye. 
Perhaps he was suspected of following Christ, for 
he was the father of Alexander and Rufus, w r ho 
were afterwards converted. Whether they com- 
pelled him to bear the cross, because he happened 
to be nearest to them, or because he manifested 
compassion towards the Lord, or because he was 
supposed to love Him, is not known to us. But 
this we do know, that although the Saviour bore 
our sins and the sin of the world, we must never- 
theless with Him carry the cross. We must take 
His cross and walk with Him to Golgotha; we 
must die with Him and be buried with Him, be- 



142 THE AUTHOR OF THE INNER LIFE 

fore we can rise with Him. What Simon did in 
reality, we must do in spirit, and in faith. 

The cross is the banner, which all nations and 
every individual must approach. The cross attracts 
them : it attracted Simon also. But the path to 
the cross of Christ, and to the life flowing from 
it, leads through the crucifixion of our own sins. 
Whoever can understand this, will lose his life for 
Christ's sake, that he may find it anew in Him. 

Where they crucified Him. — Death by crucifix- 
ion, was the most painful of all deaths. The unfor- 
tunate victim, whose sinews were extended in the 
most unnatural manner, was consumed by the slow 
fire of a fever ; and whilst agonizing and withering 
in the air, he might sigh and groan for days before 
the last moment came. The cross itself was not 
very high; though modern artists may represent 
it so. Not far from the ground, there was a pro- 
jection in the principal beam, on which the feet 
were allowed to rest. Before the sufferer was 
raised up, a drink was handed to him. This drink, 
consisting of wine and other ingredients, was in- 
toxicating, and designed to blunt the stings of pain 
and weaken the consciousness. Such a drink of 
sour wine and wormwood, was offered also to Christ, 
but He did not accept of it. He did not wish to 
weaken His consciousness of the pains of death ; 
His drink and His meat was to do the will of His 
Father. 

After this drink had been given, it was customary 



BEARING HIS CROSS. 143 

to undress the victim, fasten his arms to the cross- 
piece by a rope, and then nail him to it. Sometimes 
the feet were also nailed fast, at other times not. 
How Christ was dealt with in this respect, is not 
known. 

But from beginning to end, what torture! What 
a series of pains ! What a gradual increase of 
misery ! It is not a death that takes away life by 
a single blow, but an infliction of pain, that now 
attacks the victim and then partly releases him, to 
attack him again and again, until by degrees it 
penetrates every nerve and every muscle, and the 
poor sufferer expires from exhaustion. 

And two others with Him, on either side one, and 
Jesus in the midst. — At the time of Christ, Judea 
was filled with criminals, who were frequently col- 
lected into a band, and called themselves the libe- 
rators of Israel. They were often led by one who 
feigned to be the Messiah, and by means of pre- 
tended miracles sometimes induced even pious 
persons to join him. To such a band perhaps both 
the criminals belonged who were crucified with 
Christ. Yet their disposition was very different. 
The one was no doubt led astray by mistaken 
views of right and wrong, by the urgency of rela- 
tions, and by the conjunction of many circum- 
stances. The other w r as a villain. Between these, 
however, Christ had to die. He whom angels had 
introduced into the world with rejoicing, and whom 



144 THE AUTHOR OF THE INNER LIFE 

the wise men of the East had saluted with their 
precious gifts ; He, who was the King of kings, 
must depart from this life among robbers. He who 
reigned as Prophet and as King — who had unlimited 
command of the powers of nature — who subdued 
the storm and walked upon the waves of the sea — 
who fed thousands with a few loaves of bread — who 
cured the sick and expelled evil spirits — He hangs 
between two murderers, as if He were the worst 
sinner among them. 

And two others with Him. — Why was this ? Why 
had Christ to die between two malefactors ? 

Those who are satisfied with transferring a diffi- 
culty from one place to another, we hear saying, 
The Scriptures had to be fulfilled. But the same 
Providence spoke through the Prophets in the Old 
Testament, that executed its predictions through 
the Jews and the Romans in the New Testament ; 
and if there was a design in fulfilling the prophe- 
cies, there must have been one also in giving them. 

The few words I shall say on this subject, I 
introduce with a general remark. We are all 
in the power of God; we must all serve Him, 
some with and others against our wills. But the 
latter are God's slaves; the former are His children. 
The slaves of God, without knowing what they do, 
work out a significant symbol, which suggests to us 
many instructive reflections. Such a symbol we 
have in this place. 



BEARING HIS CROSS. 145 

In the wickedness of their hearts and from 
malice, His enemies hang Christ between two cri- 
minals, and thus intend to insult Him, whose disci- 
ples were now dispersed, whom Judas had betrayed 
and Peter had denied, and against whom the people 
raged. But whilst they wish still more to wound 
His wounded breast, they are preparing a healing 
balm for Him. Faith which had disappeared 
among His own disciples, shows itself in a robber. 
When no one can believe that the pierced right 
arm of Christ is strong enough to lead a soul 
through the dark valley of death, when all give 
up in despair, thinking that He who dies the death 
of a criminal cannot open the gates of Heaven — 
a robber comes forth, a hero in faith, and bears 
witness that Christ has come to save sinners. 

Again : The robbers were sinners, and sinners 
we all are. They did but represent our race. Thus 
Christ hangs between the representatives of mankind. 
But only one of these sinners repents ; the other 
reviles Christ. And thus it is with us. Some of 
us believe, others reject Christ. Jesus, on the cross, 
receives the thief that believes; He passes judg- 
ment. Thus the cross, intended for His reproach 
and destruction, becomes the throne on which the 
Judge of mankind is seated : Golgotha becomes the 
seat of judgment. In like manner, will our race 
on that great day be divided into two parts, as its 
representatives on Golgotha. On the one side of 

13 



146 THE AUTHOR OF THE INNER LIFE 

Christ those will stand that are saved, and on the 
other those that are condemned. 

Again : They crown Him with thorns. The 
thorns are only the symbols of those pains which 
this sinful earth, the mother of thorns, had pre- 
pared for Him. Thus, through a crown of thorns, 
His enemies confess symbolically, without knowing 
or willing it, what sorrows Christ had to endure, in 
order to save us from sin and give us life eternal. 

Again : His arms are extended on the cross ; they 
who hate Him have nailed them so. But love is 
stronger than hatred. Christ Himself willingly 
stretched out His arms on the cross to embrace the 
whole world in His love, and to call down from 
Golgotha to all nations, to come to the cross, to 
unite under it, and fall into the arms of a kind and 
merciful Saviour.' 

Thus every mark of infamy which the enemies 
of Christ put upon Him, is converted into glory ; 
they do what they will not ; and what they will 
they are too weak to do. 

One truth, then, we may learn from the latter 
part of our discussion. It is this : 

There is but one true glorj^, and there is but one 
kind of real ignominy. That ignominy is sin. 
That glory is faith, and a life of faith averse to sin. 
Ignominy can not be covered nor concealed with 
all the tokens of honor which earth may confer; 
true glory can not be diminished by any acts of 
hatred or of envy; but every attempt to tarnish it, 



BEARING HIS CROSS. 147 

only increases its brilliancy. If you give your- 
selves to the service of sin, you cannot escape shame 
and destruction, for should you take wings and 
dwell in the uttermost parts of the ocean, there also 
would His eye be upon you. But if you devote 
yourselves to the service of God, true glory and 
everlasting life will be yours. The crown of thorns 
becomes a crown of life on the head of our Saviour. 
His cross becomes His throne. Thus will it be 
also with all the sufferings and reproaches of those 
who love the Lord; they will be converted into 
joy and honor. 

But in order to obtain true glory, you must pray 
to God. You must sing praises to Him, who died 
for you. You must seize the blessings which the 
cross offers. You must go to the Redeemer. Go 
then to Him and say : Here I am, Lord, and here is 
my life : speak, and I will hear : give me a sign, 
and I will hasten to obey : delay, and I will wait in 
patience : try me, and I will submit : smite me, and 
I will endure it in faith : I will look to Thee : I will 
approach Thy cross and learn patience, forbearance, 
and meekness : I will resist evil, as Thou hast done 
it : I will conquer by Thy Spirit, that I may receive 
the crown of everlasting life. 

Go to the Lord and speak thus to Him. Sweet 
will be your sleep, and still sweeter your death. 
See the poor laborer : he returns home from the 
field ; the day was hot and long, and hard was his 
toil 5 he seats himself before his door to enjoy the 



148 THE AUTHOR OF THE INNER LIFE. 

cool evening ; he looks upon the sky and upon the 
beautiful clouds that accompany the sun as he sinks 
down to rest; then he forgets his labor and his 
fatigue, and his mind is absorbed in the beauties of 
the sunset. 

So it will be with the Christian. On the evening 
of his life he will return home to his Father, and, 
seated before the throne of God, he will look upon 
eternity, and forget that he ever was out in the 
field, which is the earth, to labor and struggle there, 
to be unhappy and worn down with fatigue. God 
grant that such may be the evening of our life. 
Amen! 



THE AUTHOR OF THE INNER LIFE ON THE 

CROSS. 

John 19 : 19-24. 

u And Pilate wrote a title and put it on the cross. And the writing 
was, Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews. This title then read 
many of the Jews : for the place where Jesus was crucified was nigh to 
the city ; and it was written in Hebrew, and Greek, and Latin. Then 
said the chief priest of the Jews to Pilate, Write not, the King of the 
Jews ; but that he said, I am King of the Jews. Pilate answered, 
"What I have written, I have written. Then the soldiers, when they had 
crucified Jesus, took his garments, and made four parts, to every 
soldier a part, and also his coat : now the coat was without seam, woven 
from the top throughout. They said therefore among themselves, Let 
us not rend it, but cast lots for it, whose it shall be : that the Scripture 
might be fulfilled, which saith, They parted my raiment among them, 
and for my vesture they did cast lots. These things therefore the 
soldiers did/' 

Whenever we reflect on the moral value of an 
action, we ask above all, whether the actor was 
free or not ; whether he was forced by any physical 
or supernatural power ? In the latter case the guilt 
or merit, that may be attached to the action, 
belongs to the forcing power acting through man 
only as through an instrument. He who acts, 
must have freely resolved to act just as he acted, 
if the action is justly to be imputed to him. Every 
resolution, however, presupposes deliberation, and 

13* 



150 THE AUTHOR OF THE INNER LIFE 

all deliberation a possibility that he who delibe- 
rates, may act thus or so, that he is not forced to act, 
neither by anything within him nor by anything 
from without. The deliberation itself, if it be not 
trifling, ought not only to take into consideration 
all the possible means by which to accomplish a 
purpose and to select the best ones among them, but 
it ought, above all, to consider the moral value of 
the action and its possible consequences. The 
result of such deliberation we call resolution ; and 
that which prompts the resolution, the motive. The 
motive entering the action, becomes its soul and 
constitutes its value, our guilt or our virtue. 

Every man belongs to that moral order, which, 
constituted by the divine law, is independent of 
every individual and has power over every indi- 
vidual. Every action affects this order, either by 
improving or by deteriorating it; but affecting this 
order, an action is in turn affected by it. This 
mutual effect we call the consequences of our actions. 
To calculate these consequences, forms a part of 
our deliberation ; but that we may do this with 
safety, we must know all the circumstances under 
which we act. If we mistake them or if we over- 
look some of them, the action, when realized, may 
possess qualities, which it had not, whilst yet 
existing only in our mind — in our deliberations. 
Something foreign, which we did not foresee, is 
attached to it ; the opposite of what we design, is 
realized through it. Free in planning an action, we 



OJST THE CROSS. 151 

have no more control over it when once executed ; 
but from the moment when it enters this moral 
order, it places us under a necessity proceeding 
from it, and we must take the fruit it bears. 

Shortsighted as we are, we call this, that an action 
may produce the opposite of what we designed by 
it, a mystery. And a mystery to us indeed it is, 
but in reality it is the Providence of God, that 
makes even our w T icked designs serve His plans, 
and brings forth good where man meditated only 
evil. This secret and mysterious way of God's 
Providence, I propose to consider to-day. 

Our text says : And Pilate wrote a title and 
put it on the cross. And the writing was : Jesus 
of Nazareth, the King of the Jews. 

Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews. This 
was the inscription on the cross. The law re- 
quired, that the name of the criminal and his crime 
be made known. The w T orld, governed by moral 
principles, insists on knowing who is punished, 
and for what crime, lest the judge may become a 
tyrant. Very much had been spoken of the execu- 
tion of Christ, both for and against it ; hence we 
see on the cross of Jesus the same inscription in 
three different languages ; — in Hebrew, for the 
Jews who lived in Jerusalem ; in Greek, for the 
Jews who lived dispersed throughout other coun- 
tries, but were at this time assembled in Jerusalem 
to celebrate the feast ; in Latin, on account of the 



152 THE AUTHOR OF THE INNER LIFE 

Romans who were present. So then, our Saviour 
was treated like a common criminal in every re- 
spect. There shall be no heart to pity Him, but 
every one shall condemn Him. Every trace of 
respect, of applause, of attachment, they desire to 
efface. His memory they intend to stigmatize, to 
curse His name, to annihilate His work, to destroy 
His life. This is the plan of the world. 

But let us see, what was the plan of God ? He 
whom, they execute as a criminal, shall come forth 
gloriously as the Messiah of the world. This was 
the plan of God, and the wicked Judges and Jews 
had to bear a painful disappointment ; whilst 
they thought to reach their designs, they were only 
engaged in fulfilling the counsel of His infinite 
wisdom; whilst they wished to destroy the power of 
Christ by taking His life, they were laying the foun- 
dation of His divine revelation. Had Christ not 
been crucified, the kingdom of truth and of love 
would never have been established on earth. He 
died, not because He could not shun the malice of 
the Jews, but that He might reconcile the world to 
God ; and the Father makes use of their arm to 
slay Him whose pure and innocent blood was to be 
the ransom for our sins. Now the sinner is justi- 
fied by faith without the deeds of the law. Those 
that sit in darkness are brought out of the prison- 
house. All things have become new. There is no 
more debt. The Father smiles again ; and the Son 
calls : Look unto me, and be ye saved, all the ends 



ON THE CROSS. 153 

of the earth. Now the words, written in scorn on 
the cross, lighten as if they were written with the 
shining rays of the rising sun, and proclaim loudly : 
He whom they have crucified was the King of the 
Jews — the Messiah of the world — the Son of God. 
His death passes as the breath of life through all 
nations and ages. His lips, though pale and 
closed, proclaim peace and salvation unto man ! 

What may we learn from this part of our dis- 
course ? God's ways are dark, but they lead to 
glory. God permits what is awful, but makes it 
harmonize with His plan. He is the Almighty, 
and as, by the beams of the sun, He changes the 
dark cloud, that threatens destruction, into a beau- 
tiful rainbow, the arch, that connects time and 
eternity, heaven and earth, so He may turn all 
apparent evil into good. Therefore dismiss your 
doubts ; do not resist the will of God ; do not 
murmur ; for the Father guides you, and the Son 
loves you. But to possess this tranquillity of mind 
you must look upon the cross, you must feel your- 
self attracted by it. 

Let us cast a glance at the Priests. 

If we reflect upon the conduct of the priests, 
from the beginning to the end, we must come to 
the conclusion, that they acted from hatred to 
Christ. They took Him captive, not because He 
appeared to them to deserve punishment, for they 
had to bribe their witnesses. They arraigned Him 



154 THE AUTHOR OF THE INNER LIFE 

before the Sanhedrim, not to judge Him according 
to law ; for they were fully determined to pro- 
nounce Him guilty. They handed Him over to 
Pilate, not that He might be acquitted or con- 
demned according to his deserts, but that he might 
be led to Golgotha. The motive of their conduct 
is hatred, their war-cry, Crucify Him ! And why 
did they hate Him ? They could not comprehend 
Him ; He was too noble, too divine, for that 
sensual race ; they had no heart to feel with Him ; 
they were too proud to learn of Him ; they were 
too degenerate to form an attachment to Him. But 
whoever is not with Him, is against Him. Who- 
ever does not work for Him, must work against 
Him. Christ, moreover, had often humbled them. 
He had taken away from them the attention of 
the people. Hence they seek an opportunity to 
vent their rage — to glut their hatred. Hence they 
exult, when they see Him going forth bearing the 
cross. Hence they follow Him triumphing. Though 
the way was long, the anticipated satisfaction is 
sweet. 

But what first strikes their eye? Jesus of Naza- 
reth, the King of the Jews. What a disappoint- 
ment ! They came to triumph over Christ, but 
they are humbled by a few w r ords ; their pride is 
w r ounded, their arrogance is shaken. The King of 
the Jews ; and who were the Priests ? Jews them- 
selves. They had brought about the crucifixion of 
Him, whom the cross declares to be their King. 



OK EHE CROSS. K>- r > 

As murderers of their own King, they stood before 
the cross, not as holy priests, who had accused a 
fanatic or the instigator of a revolution. "Jerusalem, 
Jerusalem, thou killest thy prophets, and stonest 
them which are sent unto thee." There they stand. 
A little tablet pronounces judgment upon them. 
The anticipated satisfaction is changed into bitter 
disappointment. As an arrow directed against 
an enemy, rebounds and wounds the breast of 
the archer; as a lie, spoken to injure another, 
brings shame upon him that uttered it ; — so their 
desire to wound Christ, to the utmost, results in 
their own reproach and shame. 

What may we learn from the second part of our 
discussion ? — That the judgment of God is secret, 
but awful; that He gives room to the criminal, yet 
forces the consciousness of his guilt upon him. A 
little tablet or an innocent word, the rustling of a 
leaf, or the apparition of a ghost, may remind him 
of his guilt. Though the chariot, in which God 
the Almighty rides invisibly over the face of the 
earth, over the heads of men, over the ocean of 
time, is unseen, still every vibration and revolution 
of the wheels teach us, that God is indeed mer- 
ciful, but also just; that He does not desire the 
death of the sinner, but that it is a fearful thing 
to fall into the hands of the living God. He who 
misunderstands this doctrine is judged already. 

that it may be the lot of our life, to preserve 
purity in our thoughts, innocence in our words, holi- 



156 THE AUTHOR OF THE INNER LIFE 

ness in our deeds ; and a heart that overflows with 
faith and love. 

Let us turn our attention to Pilate. — It was his 
duty to honor the truth and deal out justice, when- 
ever it had been violated. But he was a weak 
man, without decision of character, rising and sink- 
ing with those relations that surrounded him. 
He finds no fault in Christ, and yet condemns Him. 
He dislikes the accusers, but fears the ground on 
which they argue with him. He desires to avenge 
himself for the vexatious necessity of yielding 
to them, but he is not man enough to do it in an 
open way ; he only dares to provoke them. Christ 
is to him nothing more than an imaginary King ; 
but as if, in his opinion, just such a king, a king on 
the cross, would suit the Jews, he wrote the title on 
the tablet : The King of the Jews. Those for whom 
he had invented the mockery, feel it. They say, 
therefore, " Write not the King of the Jews, but 
that he said, I am King of the Jews." But Pilate, 
like a man that has power, answers their request 
simply by saying, What I have written, I have 
written. 

From weakness, and because he was the slave of 
this weakness, Pilate had written, what he had 
written; but what he wrote in malice, was the 
truth; and without knowing or willing it, he be- 
comes the hero that announces this truth. What 
he disbelieves, he must confirm. What he cannot 
conceive, he announces publicly. What he scoffs 






ON THE CRO! L5 



) / 



at, he is forced to make known. He mocks him- 
self, whilst lie intends to mock the Jews. 

What may we learn from the third part of our 
discussion? That though God limits the liberty 
and free will of no one, He nevertheless governs 
every one in all his actions. This indeed is a mys- 
tery : God created His children for liberty ; still 
His counsels and plans take their actions into ac- 
count. The evil and the good must both serve 
Him. His is the first-born, and His are the mur- 
derers of Christ. The mystery, however, disappears, 
when we make the Father's will our own. The 
sinner lives in darkness, acts in darkness, and dies 
in darkness; he is surrounded by mysterious secrets. 
The man of faith lives in light. Everything in ex- 
istence has its peculiar nature. It is the nature 
of fire to burn ; of wind to blow ; and of water to 
moisten. The nature of freedom is light, obtained 
by truth proceeding from faith. 

He is a freeman whom the truth makes free, 
And all are slaves beside. 

Let us yet look for a moment upon the soldiers. 
It was an established custom, that the dress of the 
executed victim fall into the hands of the execu- 
tioners. The soldiers under the cross of Christ, do 
therefore, what they were accustomed to do, with- 
out any particular design. They first distribute 
among each other the upper garment. It consisted 
of a square piece of cloth, and was therefore easily 

14 



158 THE AUTHOR OF THE INNER LIFE 

divided into four parts. But the case was different 
with the coat; this was without seam, woven from 
the top throughout, after the manner of the Gali- 
leans. To cut it into four parts would have spoiled 
it, and made it useless. For this reason they agree 
to cast lots, to decide thus, who shall be so happy 
as to have it. We see the soldiers act without any 
particular design. 

But w r e ask, what w r as and is the symbolical 
meaning of their action ? 

Before answering this question I must indulge in 
one general remark. To the eye of the spiritual 
man everything, even apparently the most insig- 
nificant, gains importance and meaning. He sees 
a Divine Providence and a wise plan in the history 
of the world, as well as in the Word of God ; he 
sees a higher power manifesting itself in the in- 
nocent play of a little child, as well as in the deeds 
of nations. He reads the glory of God in the flower 
of the field, as well as in the millions of stars in 
the sky. His genius recognizes in the visible cre- 
ation that which is invisible, and discovers an ani- 
mating soul in all the forms of earth. It is other- 
wise with the merely sensual man. For him nothing 
has a symbolical meaning, not even the altar of our 
Lord, nor the bread on it, nor the wine. He sees 
nothing but what is on the surface, what can be 
touched with his fingers, or heard with his ear, or 
seen with his eye. 

In asking : What is the symbolical meaning of 



ON THE CROSS. i-V.) 

the action which the soldiers undesignedly per- 
formed? we think first of all of the Psalm : " They 
part my garments among them, and cast lots upon 
my vesture" (22: 18). Thus the Scripture was 
fulfilled. But this is not all. The earthly heritage 
of our Lord reminds us naturally of the heavenly 
treasure which He leaves to His friends. The little 
property of Him who hath not where to lay His 
head, points to the riches which we have inherited 
through Him. They divided* the upper garment 
into four parts, and there are four divisions of the 
world, which are destined to inherit the Lord's 
kingdom. They cast lots. The lot leaves the deci- 
sion of a thing to chance. In chance, however, 
there is something mysterious. Its result is thus, 
but it might also be otherwise. Why is it not 
otherwise? This question contains the mystery. 
And secret and mysterious is the counsel of God, 
that calls some earlier and others later into the 
communion of the saints. 

Again : The upper garment the soldiers could 
divide ; but the coat, made of one piece, without 
seam, woven from the top throughout, they could 
not cut into pieces. This beautiful and lovely pic- 
ture points to the internal history of the Church. 
The upper garment is the external form, in which 
one denomination differs from the other: this can 
be torn into pieces. The coat points to the Spirit 
of Christ ; this cannot be torn into pieces, but every 
one must have it whole and entire. That by which 



ICO THE AUTHOR OF THE INNER LIFE 

different Christian denominations are separated 
from each other, is of comparatively little impor- 
tance, the mere external form; but that by which 
they are still united, and in virtue of which they 
are all called Christians, is one spirit, one faith, 
one love, and one hope. Differing in form and 
points of minor importance, we must be united in 
spirit, or else we cannot be Christians. 

What may we learn from the last part of this 
sermon ? We must 'embrace Christ entirely or not 
at all. We must be convinced that the Saviour of 
the world is the Son of God, and that only the Son 
of God can be the Saviour of the world. We must 
be convinced that all the light which can illumine 
our life, all the power which can purify our sinful 
nature, all the consolation which can support us in 
our need, and all the blessings of which we can 
partake in time and eternity, proceed from Christ 
alone. We must believe that there is no other gate 
leading to Heaven, but the cross of Christ. His 
Spirit, the Spirit of Christ, must reveal to us our 
destination here on Earth ; it must give us the 
security of our salvation in Heaven. What our 
duty is, we can know only through Christ. He 
must satisfy our wants, govern our thoughts, and de- 
termine us in our relations and conduct. 

But notice, my friends, what necessarily follows 
from this. If Christ is entirely ours, we must be 
entirely His. If Christ is our property, our will 
must be His property, with its whole activity. Is 



ON THE CROSS. 161 

Christ ours, then our heart, our love, our joy, our 
peace, our patience, our cheerfulness, our humility, 
our meekness, and our purity, must be His. If He 
is ours, He will make us humble in prosperity, un- 
conquerable in adversity ; He will teach us to live 
in the feeling, that whilst Ave die daily, we die in 
the sure hope that we are not of this world, but 
that our destiny is immortality. 

This is the Spirit of Christ, which cannot be torn 
into pieces, and which every one must have who is 
a Christian ; not, indeed, in the same manner and 
in the same form ; for as different as the disposi- 
tions and relations of men are, so different will be 
the forms under which Christ is ours. There are 
perhaps not two among us here, to whom Christ is 
exactly the same, but to every one He may reveal 
Himself fully, according to his talents, disposition, 
and situation. There are diversities of operations, 
but one end and one Spirit. Like the many branches 
of a tree, each reaching in a different direction, but 
all growing forth from one trunk, and bending back 
towards it, thus forming the crown, the ornament of 
the tree — is the Church of Christ ; there are many 
branches, but one bond — many members, but one 
body — many forms, but one soul. 

May God grant us such a faith in all our rela- 
tions — when our life blooms, and when its leaves 
withering fall to the ground — when that hour ap- 
proaches, which we do not see but still fear, the 
hour of death. 

14* 



THE LOVE OF THE INNER LIFE. 

John 19 : 25-27. 

"Now there stood by the cross of Jesus his mother, and his mother's 
sister, Mary the wife of Cleophas, and Mary Magdalene. When Jesus 
therefore saw his mother, and the disciple standing by whom he loved, 
he saith unto his mother, Woman, behold thy son ! Then saith he to 
the disciple, Behold thy mother ! And from that hour that disciple took 
her unto his own home." 

Everything created by God, has an existence 
peculiar to itself. Air, fire, water, the plant, and 
the animal. Each is and exists, but no one thing 
is, or exists, like another. Man also has an exist- 
ence peculiar to himself, and differing from that of 
all nature around him. According to his body, he 
exists like the animal, eats and drinks, sleeps and 
wakes, blooms and fades, dies and decays. But ac- 
cording to his spirit, he lives in a different sphere 
from that of mere desire and sensual wants. The 
life of the spirit is love. Without love, we are 
spiritually dead. 

But not all love is pure and elevating. Pure 
love is the inclination for something higher than 
we are ourselves, or possess in ourselves; it is a 
longing after union with God, a longing to remove 
the barrier between us and God, and to be reconciled 
to Him through the redemption of our Lord Jesus 



THE LOVE OF THE INNER LIFE. 103 

Christ. Such love must be kindled in us by the 
love of Christ, and by the agency of the Holy Spirit. 
In order to exhibit more strikingly the contrast be- 
tween the love of the worldling and that of the 
Christian, I have chosen the words which you will 
find in the 19th chapter of the Goospel by §t. John, 
from the 25th to the 27th verse : " Now there stood 
by the cross of Jesus his mother, and his mother's 
sister, Mary the wife of Cleophas, and Mary Mag- 
dalene. When Jesus therefore saw his mother, 
and the disciple standing by whom he loved, he 
saith unto his mother, Woman, behold thy son ! 
Then saith he to the disciple, Behold thy mother ! 
And from that hour that disciple took her unto 
his own home." 

In the first place, let us consider the strength of 
Christian love. 

The love of the worldling frequently consists not 
in strength, but in vain imaginations, and in empty 
expressions of affection. It is rich in words, but 
poor in deeds ; it is ready with the tongue, but slow 
in redeeming its pledges. The love of Christ, and 
also that of His true followers, is diametrically op- 
posed to it in every particular. See our Saviour 
stretched on the cross. It was love which prompted 
Him to give Himself a ransom for our sins ; to suffer 
for us in a measure which w r e cannot comprehend. 
It was love which prompted the desire, that the 
sinner might become j ust by His blood, that the slave 



164 THE LOVE OF 

might be made free, that the poor might become 
heirs of Heaven, that all things might become new, 
that there might be no more fear, and that the Fa- 
ther's face might smile upon us again. Whilst 
agonizing in pain, his last sigh is : " Father forgive 
them, for they know not what they do." His last 
breath testifies to His undying love, which sends 
into the breast of every true believer the words of 
peace, " Spend not your days in fear, nor your 
nights in sighing, but hope and rejoice." 

The same love, we may discover, in the true fol- 
lowers of Christ. Transfer yourselves for a moment 
to Calvary. See the skulls scattered about ; hear 
the whispered revilings of Christ ; notice the fright- 
ful priests and their malignant eyes, as they watch 
the cross ; and then, behold the women, standing 
beneath their dying Saviour. Delicate and tender 
as is the nature of woman, shrinking as she does 
from public exposure to the insults of a promis- 
cuous and disorderly multitude, how strong must 
have been the attachment that could rivet them to 
the spot, where their divine Master was expiring 
under His accumulated sufferings ! This is the 
time when a sword was to pierce through their 
souls, a time dark and gloomy, and full of danger 
for those who publicly professed their love to the 
Saviour. But love, strong as theirs, subjects itself to 
every pain and to every duty without hesitation. 
They cannot endure absence from their crucified 
Eedeemer; though they cannot assist Him, they 



THE INNER LIFE. 1G5 

must nevertheless be with Him. True Christian 
love knows of no place of peace or pleasure away 
from its divine Master. 

How different is the love of the world ! It al- 
ways rests upon the lip, but its fountain is not the 
heart; when put to the test, a thousand excuses 
present themselves to render its expression in cor- 
responding actions impossible. Deceiving itself, it 
deceives others for a time, for man in the darkness 
of nature is the slave of selfishness, and acts wholly 
under its control. 

Christian love never changes. It is not like the 
rosy morn, that grows pale before the heat of the 
day ; it is not like varnish, that may be rubbed 
off by the hand of time; it is no tinsel, that the 
wind may blow away. But like pure and solid 
gold, the more it is put to the test the brighter it 
shines. How many changes had taken place in the 
life of our Redeemer, yet His mother does not for- 
sake Him ; Mary the wife of Cleophas, Mary Mag- 
dalene, and the beloved disciple, stand near Him. 
No misfortune can sever the ties that unite them ; 
whilst circumstances change, their love remains the 
same. It was easy indeed for the women to love, 
when the future smiled like a blooming day; when 
the glory of Christ passed from mouth to mouth, 
and from land to land ; but whither has it fled, this 
season of happiness ? On the cross of reproach, no 
honor blooms ; no sun of joy shines on Golgotha ; 
for the worldling, Christ no longer possesses any at- 



166 THE LOVE OP 

traction. Death approaches Him, and the multitude 
that but a few days ago applauded Him, now 
scoff at Him ; but the love of the women increases 
in strength and energy, in proportion as life be- 
comes darker, its claims higher, and its calls louder. 

How different is the love of the world ! It is the 
ornament of the first few days of a connection, but it 
does not continue to cheer the whole life. It depends 
on circumstances — rises and sinks with them. This 
love blesses those who are near, but forgets those at 
a distance ; it willingly partakes of our joys, but 
shrinks from sharing our adversities ; it carries the 
living in its bosom, but is unwilling to remember 
those with mourning and gratitude, who have gone 
to the grave. True Christian love is strongest 
when worldly love is weakest, in misfortunes and in 
the troubles of life. 

Again : The strength of Christian love may be 
seen in its immortality. Death may separate hands 
that clasp each other; hearts it cannot sever. Death 
may force friends to part with friends, but the living 
may still gather around the graves of the deceased, 
and the spirit of the deceased may still abide with 
those who survive ; may speak to them in what 
they have done for them, in the example they have 
set, and in the care they have taken of them. Thus 
also the love of the women retains its energy, even 
after the death of Christ. As they stood near the 
cross, speechless in their grief and unable to relieve 
the tortures of their Saviour, or to comfort Him, so 



THE INNER LIFE. 167 

they followed Him to the sepulchre in which He 
w r as laid. Then they returned and prepared spices 
and ointments, and rested the Sabbath day, accord- 
ing to the commandment. Now, upon the first day 
of the week, very early in the morning, they came 
unto the sepulchre, bringing the spices which they 
had prepared. What joy must even the Son of God 
have felt, when He, the all-seeing One, read dis- 
tinctly in their hearts what their lips did not utter, 
that their love would go beyond death ! 

Such love is unknown to the world. Their love 
is based on sand, and endures like a rope of sand. 
Its alliances are formed from self-interest ; its 
choices are determined by sensual attractions ; its 
connections are entered into for pleasure and for 
usefulness. It considers friends valuable only for 
their beauty or talents; for their gracefulness or 
their fitness for certain purposes ; hence it is vain 
and transient and void. Christian love is based on 
what is eternal, and will therefore endure to eter- 
nity. It considers all tender and good feelings 
sacred; all its duties inviolable; all its relations 
as formed for higher designs. Such love does not 
merely desire friends, to eat and to drink with 
them ; to deal and to live with them — but friends 
who adore the same Lord, who walk in the same 
faith, strive after the same holiness, and rejoice in 
the same hope. Friends, united by such love, con- 
sider themselves the fellow-heirs of Christ; they 
regard each other thus while they live, honor each 



1G8 THE LOVE OF 

other thus when they suffer, and resign each other 
thus when they die. Such is the strength of Chris- 
tian love. 

Let us now consider the confidence of Christian 
love. 

It is easy to say : Love believes all things, but it 
is difficult to do accordingly ; for we are prone to 
distrust and suspicion. Christian love, however, 
believes all things, hopes all things, endures all 
things ; and such was the love of the women be- 
neath the cross. We have been taught from our 
childhood, that to save us from sin and eternal 
damnation, it was necessary that Christ should die ; 
that His blood was the sacrifice for our guilt, and 
that His obedience and righteousness are now im- 
puted to us. For as by one man sin and misery 
had come into the world, and as sin was imputed 
to all men, so through the death of Christ came life 
and salvation. But this eternal and ever-blessed 
truth was a mystery to the women ; it was yet to 
be fully revealed by the Holy Spirit. When, now, 
Christ became a curse for us ; when He in whom 
they believed as the Son of God, was thus humbled 
and so despised that men hid their faces from Him, 
and preferred a murderer ; when He became sub- 
ject to bitterest wrath, and, denounced as a. blas- 
phemer and a false Christ, was nailed to the cross 
by the hands of heathen, like a criminal, — then it 
required confidence, on the part of the women, to 
avow their former attachment. They had not ex- 



THE INNER LIFE. 1G0 

pected Christ to establish a temporal kingdom, but 
that He would restore an eternal kingdom. A Sa- 
viour on the cross, however — salvation and life 
through the death of Him who gives it — this they 
could not comprehend. Whilst they stand beneath 
the cross, they stand, it cannot be denied, on the 
ruins of their hopes. No words to console them, 
are heard from the lips of the expiring Saviour, 
surrounded by the darkness of death. He whose 
glory is clouded, whom men have rejected, whom 
God seems to have forsaken, makes no effort to ex- 
plain to them the necessity of all this, and of His 
death. He gives them no promise that the present 
darkness shall be changed into light, and yet their 
confidence remains unshaken. The Saviour dies ; 
and because He did not shun death, they are con- 
vinced that it is necessary He should die. No 
doubts rise in their breasts, or if there be any, they 
put them under the obedience of love. They have 
more of Christ in their hearts, than what they can 
see of Him with their eyes. The mystery must be 
solved ; the time must come, when they shall see 
clearly what now is concealed from their eyes : — 
this is their hope, this is their faith. 

that all of us may possess such a confidence, 
such a hope in our Kedeemer ! That all of us 
may confide in Him, w r hether fortune smiles or 
frowns upon us — w r hether we can understand the 
sufferings laid upon us by Providence, or the ways 
of God are mysterious and dark to us. 

15 



170 THE LOVE OF 

The confidence of Christian love may be seen 
also from the following consideration. The love of 
the world grows cold when it is burdened with 
labor and duties. Worldly friends depart from us, 
when we ask them to labor for us, instead of parti- 
cipating in our pleasures, or to complete what we 
have left undone, instead of receiving the benefits 
of our labors. But true Christian love is different : 
" When Jesus, therefore, saw his mother and the 
disciple standing by whom he loved, he saith unto 
his mother, Woman, behold thy son ! Then saith 
he to the disciple : Behold thy mother !" A few 
words, but a great, a solemn obligation. Who that 
knows the cares, the troubles, the anxiety and soli- 
citude of a mother ; who that knows the duties of 
a son towards a mother, who in her old age needs 
an arm to support her, to protect her, to provide 
for her wants, can for a moment doubt the extent 
of such a duty ? And yet the relation between son 
and mother rests not merely on the performance of 
their mutual duties; it rests on love. Unless they 
love each other, they cannot work for each other, 
nor can they render each other happy. 

But I have yet to show you another heavenly 
beauty in t he love of the Christian, — faithfulness, 
the crown of the whole. 

Confidence and faithfulness presuppose each 
other; they are linked together like cause and 
effect ; and in proportion as a man is faithful, will 
he be noble in his confidence. One that makes it 



THE INNER LIFE. 171 

a rule to confide in no one, will certainly himself 
be fit for treachery and deception, and therefore, un- 
worthy of confidence. Christian love, as it con- 
fides, will also consider its promises sacred, and 
will perform them without many words, without 
delay, and without weariness. 

It is not the love of many words or of great 
eloquence, that is the most faithful. Peter was 
always ready to profess his unchangeable attach- 
ment to Christ, yet during that dark hour, he is 
not present at the cross. But John, whom we 
never find disposed to speak much of his love to 
the Saviour, stands by the side of the cross. The 
love of the world lives on the tongue, and is always 
inclined to provoke moments of trial. Christian 
love lives deep in the heart ; it is neither too san- 
guine in its hopes, for it is meek ; nor does it easily 
despair, for it believes in a divine Providence ; but 
in the hour of trial it redeems all its pledges. And 
see how John fulfilled the request of Jesus. " From 
that hour that disciple took her unto his own 
home." The value of a gift depends no less on the 
time when it is given, than on the disposition 
with which it is given. A gift given when it is 
needed, and in the spirit of kindness, like the dew 
of heaven is twice blessed ; it blesses him that 
gives and him that takes it. Christ expresses the 
wish, and from that hour John took her to his own 
home. The words, from that hour, distinctly indi- 
cate, that John acted without reflection, without 
hesitation, without seeking or finding any impedi- 



172 THE LOVE OF 

ments : the will of Christ is his law, to fulfil it is his 
delight. We do not know, indeed, how long Mary 
lived after this. Her grave is shown to pilgrims 
in Jerusalem ; where John owned a house and 
lived in pious communion with Peter. Others 
however, are of the opinion, that Mary followed 
John to Ephesus, and died but shortly before this 
disciple went to his eternal home. Which opinion 
may be true, we cannot ascertain ; but one thing 
we do know, that the disciple whom Christ loved, 
never wearied of the mother whom the dying 
Saviour gave him. 

Such was the love of John, and such should be 
the love of every Christian. Then the time would 
soon come, when the wolf shall dwell with the 
lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid; 
when the earth shall be full of the knowledge of 
the Lord, as the waters cover the sea. Then would 
the time soon come, when, 

Eastern Java there 
Kneels with the native of the farthest west, 
And Ethiopia spreads abroad the hand 
And worships. When from every clime they come 
To see thy beauty and to share thy joy, 
Sion. — 

We have now seen that Christian love is strong, 
confiding, and faithful. With what reflections shall 
we dismiss this subject ! — 

May we all love Christ as the women and the 
disciple did who stood by the cross. Then our love 
will be strong, confiding, and faithful. Such love 



THE INNER LIFE. 173 

will teach us, not to neglect one and prefer another 
without any right or reason, but to love all with 
whom we have intercourse. It will teach us, not 
to disturb the peace of any person, neither of a 
child nor of a gray-headed sire, neither of our 
nearest neighbor nor of a stranger. It will teach 
us, to see in all our earthly relations a higher de- 
sign, to act in a noble spirit, according to higher 
laws and for sacred purposes. It will teach us, 
to love the Lord in those, by whom we are sur- 
rounded, and to consider them as destined for im- 
mortality. Possessing such love, we would devote 
our principal care to the interests of their inner life ; 
we would desire their sanctification ; we would 
watch over their virtue and guard the peace of 
their souls ; we would remind each other of that 
day, when we must give an account of what we 
have done ; when husband and wife, father and 
child, brother and sister, friend and relative — all 
must stand before the throne of the Judge, to be 
acquitted or to be condemned. Yes, there is no 
true love, that is not anxious for the salvation of 
its objects. And no one is anxious for the salva- 
tion of others, who does not also desire their sancti- 
fication. And there is no anxiety, for their 
sanctification, that does not come from the Lord 
and lead to the Lord. 

that we may all love the Lord, I again 
repeat ! Then we would think first of Him in all 
our doings and feelings, and of ourselves — last. 

15* 



174 THE LOVE OF THE INNER LIFE. 

Then it would be easy for us to share the joy and 
misery of others, to weep with them and be cheer- 
ful with them ; — then it would be easy to yield to 
the wishes of our fellow-men, to devote ourselves to 
their benefit, to have patience with the irritable, and 
make every sacrifice for their good. Only when 
they request us to sacrifice truth, when they expect 
us to deviate from the path of duty in order to please 
them ; when we see them in danger, ensnared 
by sin, running into destruction — we will not gratify 
them ; our love to them will constrain us to warn, 
to admonish, to resist. 

But this love is a heavenly fire; it cannot be 
kindled by earthly passions nor by earthly charms. 
Pure love is of God and every one that loves, is 
born of God 5 and knows God. He that loves not, 
knows not God, for God is love. These are the 
fruits of regeneration : faith, hope, and love ; but 
the greatest of these is love. As the morning and 
the evening meet in the hour of noon, as the past 
and the future are linked together by the present 
— so hope, which looks forward into an unknown 
world, and faith, which embraces the past, are 
joined and united in love. In love, the grief of 
repentance and solicitude concerning a blessed im- 
mortality, are annihilated, like many discords, that 
are converted into a beautiful harmony. May God 
grant this love to every one of us ! Amen ! 



THE INNER LIFE OF THOMAS. 

John 20 : 24-29. 

" But Thomas, one of the twelve, called Didymus, was not there when 
Jesus came. The other disciples therefore said unto him, We have seen 
the Lord. But he said unto them, Except I shall see in his hands the 
print of the nails, and put my finger into the print of the nails, and 
thrust my hand into his side, I will not believe. And after eight days 
again the disciples were within, and Thomas with them : then came 
Jesus, the doors being shut, and stood in the midst and said, Peace be 
unto you. Then saith he to Thomas, reach hither thy finger, and be- 
hold my hands ; and reach hither thy hand and thrust it into my side; 
and be not faithless but believing. And Thomas answered and said unto 
him, My Lord and my God. Jesus saith unto him, Thomas, because 
thou hast seen me, thou hast believed : blessed are they that have not 
seen and yet have believed." 

Lord, our Heavenly Father ! Fall of humility 
and reverence, as it becomes sinners, we approach 
Thy throne this morning. We are not worthy to 
take Thy holy name upon our lips; we cannot 
come before Thee in our strength ; we have no right 
to call upon Thee; yet we come in the name of 
our Saviour, for whose sake we pray, that Thou 
wilt accept us. 

Lord ! may every one acknowledge that he stands 
in need of a Saviour ; that as sin has separated us 
from God, Christ alone can reunite us to Him ; that 



176 THE INNER LIFE 

as sin has destroyed all heavenly life in us, Christ 
alone can restore it again ; that as sin has taken 
away all noble pleasures and joys, and poisoned the 
heart, which is the spring of all delight, Christ 
alone can render us happy again and bless us; 
that as sin has weakened us, Christ alone can 
strengthen us. 

May all doubts that arise from sin and weakness 
disappear ; may the night in which the sinner lives 
be dispelled, and the day of light and salvation 
break in upon him ; may he desire communion with 
Him who is the source of life, the ruler of the in- 
visible Church, the germ from which all that is 
good and holy and lovely grows forth. 

Let the communion of all believers be full of life. 
May they walk in the spirit of Christ ; may they 
view their life as He did ; may they exert every 
power and use all their time and every opportunity, 
to labor for truth and for their fellow-men ; to be 
zealous in their calling, to suffer and work in 
Christ's service to their last breath. 

Lord, help us, and give us faith ! 

There is but One whom all must serve. Before 
Him may all those in power bend their knees ; may 
all constitutions breathe His spirit, and all nations 
be renewed by His word, that all may gather around 
Him, to do homage to Him. 

May the Gospel spread throughout our land and 
throughout the w r orld ; may its light triumph over 
the darkness of sin and its truth over superstition 



OF THOMAS. 177 

and the slavery of sensual life. May it put an end 
to superstition and infidelity, to fanaticism and per- 
secution, to wickedness and hypocrisy. 

May all of us walk before Thee ; whether we are 
exposed to the eye of the world, or are in our 
secret chamber; whether we are engaged in our 
daily employments, or in worshipping Thee, may 
we always think of Thee and of Thine Omnipre- 
sence, and live as it becomes those whom Thou 
hast consecrated to Thyself. 

Hear us, Lord ! and help us. Especially help 
those who either have never thought of their peril- 
ous state, or have rejected Christ. Help them that 
they may embrace the Saviour whilst they are in 
the midst of life, whilst they enjoy the preaching 
of the Gospel, and possess all the means of grace. 
May their hearts be softened, and their sense of 
guilt and danger be awakened ; may they be led 
speedily to the Son of God, who alone can save 
them from eternal ruin. 

Bless this congregation. Let every one of its 
members live to Thee, and spend all his strength 
in honoring and glorifying Thy holy name. May 
this congregation increase in numbers ; may it also 
grow in vital piety, in holiness of life. 

Lord ! bless Thy aged servant, and be with 
him wherever he may be. May his lips continue 
long to bless Thy holy name, and to announce Thy 
counsel to multitudes ; and when once Thou shalt 



178 THE INNER LIFE 

call him to his home, may he shine as a star of the 
first magnitude among the ransomed of the Lord. 

There are two classes of sceptics in matters of 
religion, both of which the Holy Scriptures have 
represented to us. The one consists of those whose 
doubts arise from a sinful and corrupt heart ; they 
perceive that the purity and holiness demanded by 
Christianity, is at war with their wicked life ; that 
their pride is offensive to Christian humility; their 
avarice to Christian benevolence ; their selfishness 
to Christian philanthropy ; their sensual lusts and 
appetites to Christian virtue and goodness. To 
admit the truth of Christianity, would be nothing 
less than to condemn themselves. This they are 
unwilling to do, and hence they seek for reasons 
and arguments by which the truth and reality of 
the religion of Christ may become at least doubtful. 
They doubt, because they fear lest, after all, there 
may be some truth in that which they, if they 
could, would take pleasure in destroying and anni- 
hilating. Though they do not confess the true and 
only basis of their doubts, neither to themselves 
nor to any one else ; though they pretend to be 
impartial and free from prejudice, to be desirous of 
attaining to a conviction of their own, — yet the ser- 
pent of sin, lurking in the retreats of their hearts, 
causes constant uneasiness, and watches every op- 
portunity to poison their life both for time and for 
eternity. 



OF THOMAS. 179 

The other class of sceptics differs widely from 
this. They hope and desire that there may be 
truth in the Christian religion. But they cannot 
convince themselves of this in the manner, and by 
such evidence as seems to them to be true and suf- 
ficient. They doubt, therefore, because hope and 
fear are mingled in their bosoms. They hope with 
joy, yet, like a person that waits with high expec- 
tation for a long looked-for event, they fear a dis- 
appointment. Their mental activity is energetic 
and strong ; they would rather be convinced than 
persuaded ; they are unwilling to see with the eyes 
of others ; but wish to see w T ith their own eyes ; 
they can think for themselves, and will not rely on 
the thoughts of others ; whatever others may be- 
lieve, they insist on a faith of their own — on a faith 
that germinates and grows in their own bosom. 
Hence it is that they are averse to all authority in 
matters of truth ; what they have not seen and 
experienced themselves, what deviates from the 
analogy of their former knowledge, must submit to 
their doubts. 

To the latter class of sceptics, Thomas belongs ; 
to the former, the Pharisees. Both classes of scep- 
tics exist, however, to this day. There are those 
who doubt the existence of a world beyond the 
senses, because they cannot see of what use it 
would be to them; and there are those, on the 
other hand, who torture themselves with doubts, 
from a sincere desire to attain to a satisfactory con- 



180 THE INNER LIFE 

viction of their own. The latter, I conceive, are 
represented in the rich and valuable history of 
Thomas ; and in making it the subject of my dis- 
course to-day, I intend to show 

That all doubts can be solved only by the 
Lord, and that He will solve such only as are 
humble, and as arise from a sincere desire for 

THE KNOWLEDGE OF THE TRUTH. In showing this, I 

propose to consider the text in an historical point of 
view, and deduce from each consideration such a 
general truth as shall naturally suggest itself. 

In the first place, then, I shall prove from the 
text, that we can expect such doubts only as are 
humble, to be solved. In proving this, I take it for 
granted, that whatever we call the occurrences of 
our external life, what frequently seems to be en- 
tirely accidental, is intimately interwoven with our 
internal life — with our disposition and character, 
with our views, our manner of thinking, and the 
strength or weakness of our will. Now, when the 
text says Thomas was not present when Jesus came 
among the disciples the first time, it may at first 
appear that this was an accidental circumstance, 
that he was prevented by something . unexpected 
from being with them, that his absence was in 
itself a matter of little or no importance. And yet 
this very circumstance was of so much importance, 
of so much weight, that if it had not occurred, one 
of the strongest proofs of Christ's resurrection would 



OF THOMAS. 181 

never have been given us. Thomas was absent, 
not accidentally, but providenticdly ; not by chance, 
but by a kind of necessity. Thomas, it is true, 
did not choose to be with the disciples, and in 
doing so, he acted freely ; he did what he desired 
to do. But why did he alone, of all the disciples, 
desire to be absent ? Why not John ? or Peter ? 
or any other disciple who was less inclined to doubt ? 

This question is of greater importance than it 
may seem at first to possess. Why is it that he, 
whom above all others we should think, Christ 
would have desired to convince of His resurrection, 
was absent, when He for the first time again spake 
the heavenly words : Peace be with you, to His dis- 
ciples ? 

I answer : first, because Thomas was constrained 
by his character, by his disposition, to separate him- 
self from his fellow-disciples ; and secondly, because 
the Lord had ordered it thus. 

Let us cast a glance at the character of Thomas. 
It has been frequently said with perfect truth, that 
each of Christ's apostles had a very marked and dis- 
tinct character, and that each may be considered as 
the representative of a large class of men, all of 
whom, will more or less easily recognize themselves 
in one or the other of the apostles. Thomas has been 
looked upon by distinguished divines as the represen- 
tative of the modern and ancient Rationalists, and as 
it would seem with great propriety. His mind, full of 
energy, is active and thirsts for truth, but he desires 



182 THE INNER LIFE 

to seek and find it by his own power. He cannot 
admit anything, unless it agrees with the laws of 
his reason, as they are known to him ; he will 
think for himself; he will apply his thoughts and 
experience to all new knowledge ; he will not re- 
ceive a truth on the mere authority of others ; he 
will sow on his own ground, and with his own hand 
what he desires to reap. He is, in short, more 
productive of thoughts of his own than susceptible 
of receiving those of others. A mind so much 
accustomed to its own thoughts, is naturally dif- 
ficult of access to those of others. The two prin- 
cipal activities of the human mind are spontaneity 
and receptiveness ; hence as the intellect in Thomas 
prevails over the heart, his spontaneous activity 
predominates. He was truly attached to Christ ; 
but all that had lately taken place in regard to the 
Saviour, was so utterly opposed to his previously 
formed and immature expectations, that his whole 
former course of ideas is suddenly arrested. To 
him it is utterly incomprehensible, that life should 
proceed from an ignominious death, and salvation 
from the sufferings of him who bestows it ; that 
honor should flow from the cross of reproach, and 
a healing balm for all nations from the wounds of 
the Saviour. The more strongly, the more con- 
fidently, he had once built his hopes upon Christ, 
the deeper and more painful w T as now his despon- 
dency, when He, from whom he had expected aid 



OF THOMAS. L83 

for all men, Himself exclaimed, My God, my God, 
why hast Thou forsaken me ? 

But the mind of Thomas is strong ; his hopes 
may be dimmed ; his expectations wither ; grief 
may oppress his soul ; night may surround his eye, 
and he may mourn; but he will not despair. The 
past is to him like a dream : the promises of the 
Lord, the desires of the pious, the honor and the 
once smiling glory of the Saviour, the ardent emo- 
tions of his own heart ; — all are crushed by the 
cross : hence he resolves to flee forever from the 
possibility of recollection, to remain by himself, 
and to shun every occasion of again being deceived. 
It is his determination henceforth to preserve his 
judgment unbiassed, to be prudent and cautious, 
and no longer to associate with those disciples, who 
now appeared to him to be too credulous and san- 
guine. Thus he excluded himself from the pre- 
sence of the Lord when for the first time after His re- 
surrection He entered the room where the apostles 
were assembled. We see that what at first seems 
accidental, followed of necessity from the character 
of Thomas; for he is determined not to be deceived, 
and therefore he banishes himself from the only 
source of consolation and comfort. 

Yet while Thomas resolves and acts freely, he 
acts at the same time as the Lord ordered it. No- 
thing occurs without the will of God. Thomas 
acts freely, yet his action is included in the Divine 
plan. But why did the Lord order it thus ? That 



184 THE INNER LIFE 

the doubts, which agitated Thomas, might be devel- 
oped to the highest degree, in order that all 
those, who after him should be excited by simi- 
lar reflections and tortured by similar troubles, 
might have sufficient proof of the resurrection to 
silence their doubts and soothe their cares. Thomas, 
not only in his own name, but also in the name of 
all whom he represents, had to speak boldly and 
distinctly the ever memorable w 7 ords : Except I 
shall see in His hands the print of the nails, and 
put my finger into the print of the nails, and 
thrust my hand into His side, I will not believe. 
Thomas, as a great divine says, had to doubt, and 
it was his lot to express his doubt in the boldest 
and most forcible manner, so that no one might 
afterwards be tempted to doubt and disbelieve. 

The general truth we may derive from this 
consideration is, that the life of man, with all 
its emotions and feelings, with all its thoughts 
and actions, with all its frailties and sinful- 
ness, is interwoven with the general plan of God; 
that even then must we serve Him, when we 
deny His powder and might. The Lord does not 
use man, as he uses the elements, fire, and water, 
and wind. He does not use him as a mere passive 
instrument; He deals with him as possessing reason 
and will. Yet though man reflects and considers, 
though he resolves and acts freely, his actions, 
without any intention on his part, form, neverthe- 
less, a link in the great chain that connects time 
with eternity; that connects nation with nation, 



OF THOMAS. 185 

and man with God. This Thomas did not dream 
of. He possesses a high degree of self-confidence ; 
what he does not see, he cannot believe. The idea, 
perhaps never struck him, that every pulsation of 
the heart presupposes a power, which is not in the 
heart, and that the power which gives life, can also 
effect a resurrection from the grave : he even wit- 
nessed the restoration of Lazarus to life, and yet, 
because he cannot comprehend why the Saviour 
must die, he doubts the power of Christ to rise 
from the grave Himself. This unlimited confidence 
in his own thoughts and ideas, was to be powerfully 
checked ; he was to be humbled, and then received 
into communion with Christ. 

And this leads us to the second consideration. — Our 
Saviour, as it appears from. the text, did not show 
himself very soon to Thomas, but made him wait full 
eight days. This also is worthy of notice. Why did 
the Saviour do so ? To purify, to soften, to humble 
Thomas. He was the disciple who demanded more 
proofs than the others, but to him they were given 
last of all. " Why, perhaps he thought, does not 
Christ, if He lives again and has risen from the 
dead, show Himself to me ? I have lived with 
Him for three years, I have followed Him and re- 
signed many comforts, — have I no right to see 
Him ?" He is anxious to believe, but has not power 
enough to trust a Saviour; he is desirous to lean on 
some one higher and greater than himself, as the 

16* 



186 THE INNER LIFE 

tender plant winds itself around a strong trunk ; 
but his mind, his manner of thinking, prevents him 
from embracing the cross. Perhaps at one time 
he considers all a dream ; perhaps at another, the 
thought flashes through his heart that Christ after 
all may have risen. Perhaps he already believes 
more than he confessed to himself; perhaps he did 
not believe from joy : the news was so overpower- 
ing to him, so full of delight and happiness, that it 
seemed too good and great to be believed ; another 
disappointment would be too painful. We cannot 
say what thoughts, or what hopes and what fears, 
may have confusedly moved and excited the breast 
of Thomas ; yet it is certain that these precious 
days, these long eight days of suspense, were de- 
signed to purify and humble the impatient, self- 
confiding disciple; that they were for him what 
fire is for gold. 

Christ, moreover, did not show Himself to Thomas 
alone, but in the presence of all. In their presence, 
he had spoken the words of unbelief; before them, 
also, he was to be humbled, and atone for his self- 
confidence, by exclaiming : My Lord and my God. 

The general truth which this consideration 
teaches us is, that whatever occurs in our external 
life, is intended by the Lord for the welfare of our 
souls ; and that w T hat seems to be accidental, may 
be replete with heavenly hints, with Divine admo- 
nitions, if we will only see and hear with the eye 
and the ear of the soul. Nothing that comes from 
the Lord — and what is there that does not come 



OF THOMAS. 187 

from Him ? — is meant only for our sensual welfare. 
Perhaps the Lord blesses us with riches, but He 
aims at the cultivation of our benevolence ; per- 
haps He afflicts us with bodily disease, but He aims 
at the cultivation of meekness, patience, and sub- 
mission. Let nothing, therefore, be a matter of 
indifference in our eyes ; we may, and ought to 
read the will of God, not only in the Gospel, but 
in the history of our own life, in the history of 
nations, in the actions of men, and in the plays of 
children. 

We pass over to a third consideration. — After 
eight days, the disciples are again assembled, and 
Thomas is among them. They are no doubt speak- 
ing about the Saviour, when suddenly and unex- 
pectedly the words: Peace be with you! fall upon 
their ears like sounds from heavenly regions. All 
are astonished, but none more so than Thomas. He 
is silent ; he does not dare to utter a word ; his 
eyes are fixed upon Christ the Saviour, and the 
Saviour's eyes are fixed upon him. At length the 
Saviour interrupts this painful silence, by the 
words : Reach hither thy finger, and behold my 
hands ; and reach hither thy hand, and thrust it 
into my side, and be not faithless, but believing. 
Peter, who always boasted that he loved Christ 
more than all the other disciples, became sorrow- 
ful, when Christ asked him three times : Lovest 
thou me? And Thomas cannot have remained 
without deep emotions, without painful feelings, 



188 THE INNER LIFE 

when the Lord, in His kind yet pointed manner, 
reproved his unbelief. Christ, whose resurrection 
he had doubted so strongly, now stands before him, 
kindly offering all the proofs he had demanded. 
But Christ, it would seem, does not only stand be- 
fore him now; He was with him also when he 
thought Him in the grave. He saw his emotions, 
He knew his thoughts, perceived his feelings, and 
witnessed his unbelief and his doubts, while he 
thought Him among those who are no more. If it 
be painful to see our mistrust of a common man, 
who is weak like ourselves, discovered by him, the 
mortification of Thomas must have been humili- 
ating in a high degree, when his unbelief was ex- 
posed by the Lord Himself. 

The general truth which I desire to derive from 
this consideration, bases itself upon the fact that 
Christ, though not informed by any one of the 
Apostles, was acquainted with the very words of 
Thomas, spoken in reference to His resurrection, 
and that this rendered the conversation of the 
Saviour more painful and humiliating to Thomas. 
Thus, though Christ is no longer among us according 
to the flesh, He is still with us by His Spirit. This 
truth all of us feel, yet not at all times. We feel 
it when we approach the table of the Lord ; when 
we present our children to be baptized ; or when 
we stand at the side of our dying friends. We feel 
it in the great epochs of our life, but very rarely 
when attending to the common business of the 



OF THOMAS. 189 

week — when the affairs of the world engross our 
attention. But the Lord is with us at all times; 
He is with us, whether we rebel against Him, as 
Thomas did, or adore and praise Him. If we rebel, 
He will make us blush, as He did Thomas, but in- 
stead of giving us an opportunity to see Him, He 
may send us away from His presence and the 
glory of His power forever. 

But let us now see what effect the kind and yet 
humbling manner, in which the Saviour wrought 
upon Thomas, had on him. The satisfaction, de- 
manded so boldly, is offered to his doubting mind ; 
he is permitted to thrust his hand into the Saviour's 
side, and lay his finger in the print of the nails ; 
but instead of doing so, he exclaims : My Lord and 
my God! 

The power of Christ appears more mysterious 
and incomprehensible, the longer we look upon it. 
It cannot be measured by our knowledge ; it con- 
stantly unfolds deeper riches, greater glory, higher 
splendor. It is mild, yet irresistible; it utters itself 
without pomp and without effort, and yet it effects 
its desired ends. 

Thomas had demanded signs : on them his faith 
was to depend ; without them he would not believe 
at all ; and with them he was scarcely willing to 
acknowledge truth to be truth. The demanded 
signs are given but he refuses to accept them. 
Whence this sudden change ? The power of Christ 
shed a new and heavenly light into his bosom, and 



190 THE INNER LIFE 

the artificial edifice of his doubting understanding 
was broken down forever. His doubts were strong 
but divine grace was stronger; he had resisted 
long, but now his conviction was so much the 
deeper. It was no longer the man with the wounds 
and bruises, that stood before Thomas ; it was the 
Saviour — it was God in man, whose power had 
conquered death. 

There is indeed a striking resemblance between 
the manner in which our Saviour treated Peter and 
Thomas, and we cannot help being reminded of 
the history of the one by that of the other. When 
the Saviour asked Peter the third time: Lovest 
thou me ? he perceived what he had never seen so 
clearly before. A great change was wrought in 
him as in Thomas. The change ^in the case of 
both, was as great as that of Paul at Damascus, 
only not as sudden. The religious life which had 
already begun to develop itself, was accelerated and 
instantly brought to its height by the mysterious 
power of Christ. 

From this consideration we may learn two 
things. First, that those who would believe w T ith 
miracles, will also believe without them, for 
miracles are as much a subject of faith as divine 
revelation ; and as divine revelation is a miracle, so 
every miracle is a divine revelation. Those, on the 
other hand, who are not willing to believe without 
seeing signs and miracles, would be the first to ex- 
claim with the Pharisees : he casts out Devils 



OF THOMAS. 191 

through the Prince of the Devils. But, secondly, 
Ave may learn, that faith is wrought in us, not by our 
own power, not by our will, nor in our own way and 
manner, but by the irresistible grace of God. Not 
that God works without man, but with him. When 
grace approaches man and awakens a desire in him 
for itself; when man seeks what God offers; when 
the child longs for the father and the father meets 
the desire of the child ; then faith is wrought like 
sight, when the eyes open to the light and the light 
falls upon them. This is the mystery, before which 
we must always remain speechless, that none can 
find the Lord, unless He comes down from Heaven 
to seek sinners ; that no man can know the Father 
save the Son and he to whomsoever the Son will 
reveal him, and moreover, that no man can come 
to the Son, unless the Father draw him. 

But there is another consideration, which the 
richness of this history presses upon us. Thomas 
demands a sign and receives it ; the Pharisees ask 
for one, and Christ says : An evil and adulterous 
generation seeketh for a sign, and there shall no 
sign be given to it, but the sign of the prophet 
Jonas. What Christ grants to Thomas, he denies 
in a severe manner to the Pharisees : is this not 
partiality ? 

The doubts of the Pharisees arose from their 
unwillingness to acknowledge Christ as their Lord ; 
from a decided reluctance to give up their own 
honor and dominion, and yield both to Him to whom 



192 THE INNER LIFE 

they were due. Though the signs demanded by 
the Pharisees should have been given, they would 
not have convinced, but only have embittered them 
the more. Their will is the magic spell, that 
excludes them from Christ, and hence Christ does 
not importune them. Thomas, on the other hand, 
doubted what he desired to believe ; the Lord 
knew Him ; He knew his heart. He had followed 
Him for three years under much self-denial and 
many inconveniences, and though he asked for 
reasons, yet he was anxious to see the long-ex- 
pected Saviour. Hence the Lord granted him 
what he denied to the Pharisees. 

Thus my main proposition is fully established. 
The Lord alone can solve our doubts. We are able 
to raise them, but we cannot remove them. Yet 
the Lord will solve such only as are humble and 
pure in their character. As long therefore as our 
doubts proceed from sin and a corrupt heart, as long 
as they are the offspring of wicked desires, as long 
as we have them, because we are determined to 
have them, so long we shall remain excluded 
from the Church of Christ by our oicn will. The 
miracle indeed, which is greater than that of the 
prophet Jonas who being buried in the belly of the 
whale, came forth to life again, the miracle of the 
resurrection of Christ, who came forth from the 
grave, has been wrought before our eyes, as before 
those of the Pharisees — has been wrought before the 
whole world ; we hear its history. We see its effects; 



or THOMAS. 193 

but many will not have anything to do with Christ, 
and hence they doubt. They have no desire for 
Him, they feel no need of Ilim, and though it 
would be the joy and delight of the Saviour to 
dispel all fears and all doubts, He is unwilling to 
force men to believe. Their will is their kingdom. 
The Lord suffers them to reign in it. If, on the 
other hand, we doubt like Thomas, the Saviour will 
show us His wounds, and our souls will read salva- 
tion in His pierced hands and side, and will exclaim 
with joy and gratitude : My Lord and my God. 

But let us hasten to the final words of the text : 
Blessed are they, that have not seen and yet have 
believed. 

I shall leave it undecided, whether or not these 
words contain, as many think, a rebuke for Thomas. 
They certainly have a stronger bearing upon us, 
than upon the disciple who could both see and 
believe. As Thomas had to doubt, lest we should 
doubt, so were these memorable words spoken 
principally on our account, and at no time were 
they of greater importance than they are now. 
It is peculiar to our age to base all faith and belief 
on sensual evidence ; and it is a happy inconsistency 
if the existence of a supernatural world — a world 
inaccessible to our senses — a world of invisible 
powers— a kingdom of spiritual and immaterial 
beings, is yet at all admitted. Many deny its ex- 
istence, and consider a belief in it not only super- 

11 



194 THE INNER LIFE 

stitious but even prejudicial to the investigation of 
truth, and injurious to pure morality. They say: 
unless we can see with our own eyes, unless our 
senses can touch, or smell, or taste, or hear a thing, 
we cannot reasonably be expected to believe in it. 
And yet who has ever seen a thought, or felt a 
power with his hands, or heard an inclination? 
Thoughts, andpowers, and inclinations, are invisible ; 
and though we cannot see them, we must believe in 
them. We are surrounded by an invisible world ; 
we live and breathe in it ; every power that works 
in the plant and forms its beauties; the instinct 
that in the bee builds the cell, and in the bird the 
artificial nest; the mighty Hand that moves in- 
numerable worlds, and preserves order and regu- 
larity : all are invisible and supernatural. And 
whatever distinguishes man from the animal — reason 
and conscience, his most noble thoughts and most sub- 
lime emotions, his will and other high prerogatives, 
every hope and every fear — belongs to the world 
which cannot be perceived by the senses. Happy 
those who believe, though they cannot see. With- 
out believing, man sinks to a level with the brute. 
Yet the word see may be used metaphorically. 
What we cannot see with the eye, we may see with 
the soul. The soul is indeed the true organ of 
sight, as the original language in which both words 
are found indicates, by deriving soul and seeing from 
the same root. The eye may perceive the effects 
of the magnet, but it is the soul, the thinking 
power in us, which ascribes these effects to an in- 



OF THOMAS. 195 

visible agency. The eye may perceive the effects 
of a resolute will, but it is the soul that sees the 
will itself. In the same way, we may see Christ 
around us. He once lived on earth, and the effects 
of His life are visible even now. He has a history, 
which has constantly produced new actions for more 
than eighteen hundred years. It is His power that 
tore down the walls which superstition and hate had 
erected between nations. His spirit pervades our 
constitutions, has softened our laws, has influenced 
the manners of society, has entered our institutions 
of learning, and lives more or less in the views, and 
convictions, and morals of the age. If we desire 
to see Christ with the eye of the soul, we may find 
Him in every voice of truth, in every noble virtue, 
in every admonition of conscience, and in all that sur- 
rounds us ; for whatever is alive has a tongue and 
a language to proclaim, that we are upheld by an 
invisible power ; that as every pulsation of the heart 
presupposes a power which is not in the heart, so the 
spiritual world within us bears witness of the Lord. 
Wherever w r e stand, we stand on holy ground, and 
it becomes us to put off our shoes from off our feet, 
for the Lord is present. 

Like all other faith, spiritual faith is qualified by 
the senses. We must hear the Divine word and 
see its Divine effects. Christ, the Christian religion, 
Christendom, are not mere thoughts ; they may be 
seen in their effects ; they are realized ; they have 
entered the world under a distinct form. Would it 



196 THE INNER LIFE 

not be illogical, to admit an invisible power in the 
magnet, when we see its effects upon iron separated 
from it by a thick marble plate, and yet deny the pre- 
sence of an invisible power, when we cannot avoid 
acknowledging the visible effects of the Christian re- 
ligion upon the world ? Yet it is not this external, 
historical form ; it is the spirit that has wrought it, 
on which the mind must rest; but spirit exists 
only for spirit, as light does for light. Whatever 
is spiritual, must be understood spiritually and 
esteemed spiritually. The sense for the light is the 
eye, the sense for sound is the ear, but the sense for 
the Invisible is the soul. To live and to die like 
the animal, our senses are sufficient; but to live 
and to die like men, for eternity, we must have a 
soul. The element of the soul is faith ; without it, 
the soul cannot attain to peace. But faith we 
have, when we see not, and yet perceive ; hear not, 
and yet believe ; have not, and yet possess. It is 
a knowledge of the Invisible connected with a firm 
conviction of its existence. Its contents are, that 
the Saviour of the world is the Son of God, and the 
Son of God is the Saviour of the world ; that these 
two things penetrate each other and are one; that 
Christ, as the Son of God, had to be, and He alone 
can be the Saviour of the world, and that the Sa- 
viour of the world only can be the Son of God. 

Again : the effects of this faith, upon us are 
expressed in the words of Thomas : My Lord and 
my God. He who lived on earth, and shed His 
blood and died for us, is to be our Lord. He is to 



OF THOMAS. 197 

reign over us, and we are to become citizens of 
that kingdom in which His will is the only law. 
Thus faith establishes a connection between Christ 
and ourselves, and though the eye cannot see Him, 
and the hand cannot touch Him, yet we love Him, 
we believe in Him, we have constant communion 
with Him. Our communion is spiritual ; we re- 
flect upon what He has said ; we review what He 
has done ; we receive what He has taught ; we 
reap what He has sown ; we strive and labor with 
His assistance ; we watch by His divine grace over 
every emotion, and notice the true import of every 
occurrence in the history of the world ; we depend 
on His counsel ; we are strengthened by His word ; 
we rejoice in Him and live before Him. 

Such faith is a messenger from Heaven, to bring 
happiness, and blessing, and joy upon earth. Those 
who have doubted like Thomas, will embrace with 
delight the Source of life and of light, of consola- 
tion and joy, of strength and of salvation. It is 
this faith, which alone can dispel the night of sin, 
and lead us from strength to strength until we shall 
see the glory of our Saviour. 

Oh, that there might be no one present, who, by 
his own will, shall continue to deprive himself of 
that peace and favor, of that joy and happiness 
and blessing, which those shall have forever who 
believe and are faithful ! Lord, help us, that we 
may all see Thee, the only true God, and Jesus 
Christ, whom Thou hast sent. Amen. 

17* 



THE INNER LIFE OF MARY MAGDALENE. 

John 20 : 11-18. 

"But Mary stood without at the sepulchre weeping: and as she wept, 
she stooped down, and looked into the sepulchre, and seeth two angels 
in white, sitting, the one at the head, and the other at the feet, where 
the body of Jesus had lain. And they say unto her, Woman, why 
weepest thou ? She saith unto them, Because they have taken away my 
Lord, and I know not where they have laid him. And when she had 
thus said, she turned herself back, and saw Jesus standing, and knew 
not that it was Jesus. Jesus saith unto her, Woman, why weepest 
thou? whom seekest thou? She, supposing him to be the gardener, 
saith unto him, Sir, if thou have borne him hence, tell me where thou 
hast laid him, and I will take him away. Jesus saith unto her, Mary. 
She turned herself and saith unto him, Rabboni, which is to say, Mas- 
ter. Jesus saith unto her, Touch me not, for I am not yet ascended to 
my Father : but go to my brethren, and say unto them, I ascend unto 
my Father, and your Father ; and to my God, and your God. Mary 
Magdalene came and told the disciples, that she had seen the Lord, and 
that he had spoken these things unto her." 

Lord, our Heavenly Father ! We approach Thy 
Throne this morning to thank Thee for the many 
mercies Thou hast bestowed upon us. Thou hast 
been with us from our earliest youth up to the pre- 
sent hour; Thou hast watched over us and pro- 
tected us from all dangers ; Thou hast given us 
strength to endure the heavy trials which life 
entails on every one, and hast preserved us until 
this day. But especially would we thank Thee, 



THE INNER LIFE. 199 

Lord ! that Thou didst send Thy only-begotten 
Son into the world : our thoughts cannot compre- 
hend the sacrifice He made for us, nor the suffer- 
ings He endured for us, nor the debt He paid for 
us, nor the blessings he procured for us. 

Lord ! we are sinners, and the reward of sin is 
death. As death follows sin, so the grave follows 
death ; we cannot look upon our graves without 
remembering sin, and as life feels averse to death, 
so the sight of the grave arouses bitter feelings and 
thoughts in the heart of the sinner. But we 
thank Thee, Lord ! that He, in whom Thou wast 
well pleased, the Prince of life, endured death and 
passed into the grave on our account. When we 
reflect on the grave of the Saviour, we may feel 
reconciled ; we may rejoice and hope as we con- 
tinue the journey at whose end the grave awaits 
every one of us. Now the grave is no longer the 
house of decay and destruction, but the silent 
chamber in which a new life develops itself; for 
the Saviour has subdued the power of death, and 
by His resurrection conquered the grave forever. 

May we often meditate on the grave of the 
Saviour ; may we hear the Saviour's voice calling 
each one of us by name, as he called Mary ; may 
we receive consolation and comfort as she did, and 
may our sadness, like hers, be turned into joy. 

Lord ! who art our Friend and Saviour, pardon 
our weakness when we sometimes tremble at the 
sight of the grave ; when, overcome by the evils 



200 THE INNER LIFE 

of life and pressed down by a sense of our frailties, 
we are downcast and without hope. Be near us, 
as Thou wast near to Mary, when she wept at Thy 
sepulchre; may Thy mercy and grace speak a word 
of consolation to us, and awaken in us a presenti- 
ment of the heavenly joy and happiness prepared 
for those that die in the Lord. And especially when 
the evening of life approaches, when our days are 
spent and our strength decreases, then, Lord, we 
pray, be near us and bless us with resignation and 
comfort and hope. Assisted by Thee, raised up by 
Thy mighty hand, and invited by the blessings and 
happiness of Heaven, our souls will hasten to rise 
on the wings of faith and hope to see Thy glory. 

Lord ! we pray that Thou w T ilt look in mercy 
upon the youth collected here. Though in the 
bloom of life may they remember that death calls 
not only the superannuated, but seizes also the 
child, whose first smiles have scarcely saluted the 
light of the sun. Teach them so to number their 
days that they may apply their hearts unto wisdom, 
and be prepared to meet their Judge whenever He 
shall call them hence. 

The death of our Saviour had produced different 
effects upon His friends and enemies. The enemies 
of Christ constantly apprehended, that something 
would follow His death which would reveal His 
Divine power, and expose themselves and their 
unjust cause. The convulsions which took place 



OF MARY MAGDALENE. 201 

during the dying hour of the Saviour, and the 
favorable impression made upon many in their own 
midst, by the sublime manner in which He bore 
His sufferings, were so many accusers, rising up to 
charge them with the murder of the Son of God. 
But especially the words, that He should rise again 
on the third day, seem to have sounded in their 
ears constantly, and to have alarmed their sinful 
consciences. Hence we see them exercise the 
greatest caution, lest some imposition should be 
practised upon them. They appoint a watch to 
observe what might be going on around the grave; 
they impress their seal, the seal of their authority 
and power, upon the entrance to the grave, as if 
they would forbid the dead to rise again. It is 
evident that they half fear the possibility of Christ's 
resurrection, and half hope that all is only the well- 
planned scheme of an intended imposition, and to 
frustrate it nothing more is necessary than their 
vigilance. Thus vibrating between hope and fear, 
they looked forward with much solicitude to the 
third day. 

The disciples, on the other hand, had lost all 
hope and energy since the death of their Friend. 
Christ had spoken to them of His resurrection, of 
the Heavenly Kingdom and its mysteries ; he had 
prophesied everything as it took place in His latter 
days, but they did not understand Him at the time 
when He spoke to them, nor did they remember 
His words and recognize the fulfilment of His pro- 



202 THE INNER LIFE 

phecies, in the occurrences of the day. His enemies 
remember all this, and fear ; but His friends have 
forgotten it, and despair. They are children of the 
dust, and the wings of hope cannot rise beyond the 
sphere of their understanding. They seek Christ 
in the grave, whilst He has already broken the seal 
of sin. What they desire and most heartily long 
for, they do not dare to hope for, though it is 
already realized, though every breath of air might 
bear the glad tidings on its wings. 

Among those w T ho went early in the morning to 
seek Christ in the grave, was also Mary Magdalene. 
Seeing the sepulchre empty, she concludes that her 
Lord has been taken away ; she weeps, and cannot 
find any consolation until the Lord in His love re- 
veals Himself to her. When I spoke last to you, 
I represented the effects of Christ's death upon 
Thomas ; it cannot be otherwise than interesting, 
to see how it affected the female portion of His fol- 
lowers. To-day, therefore, the rich and attractive 
history of Mary Magdalene at the grave of our 
Lord, shall engage our attention. May the Lord 
be with us, and bless us, while I attempt to show : 

HOW THE SADNESS OF MARY MAGDALENE, WHEN 
STANDING AT THE GRAVE OF THE LORD, AND LONGING 
AFTER HlM, WAS CHANGED INTO UNSPEAKABLE JOY. 

The text says : But Mary stood without at the 
sepulchre weeping. The grave and tears belong to- 
gether; they are inseparable. The grave is the 



OF MARY MAGDALENE. 203 

monument erected by death to all that lives ; it is 
the symbol, too, of the vanity of all earthly good. 
All that is on earth must sink into the grave. 
Neither beauty, nor health, nor riches ; neither 
honor nor splendor ; neither power nor influence ; 
neither strength nor youth, can exempt any one 
from the common fate of all that is perishable. All 
must sink into the grave, where the blooming youth 
moulders with the gray-headed sire — where the 
ashes of the profligate mingle with those of the 
ambitious — where the pious and good slumber by 
the side of the wicked. Whoever, therefore, stands 
at a grave, if he be serious and thoughtful, will feel 
sad, either because he remembers one whose ashes 
repose in the grave beside which he stands, or be- 
cause he is reminded of the graves of friends and 
relatives, or because he is led to think of his own 
grave. 

But Mary stood at the grave of the Saviour — at 
the grave of Him who, she once expected, would 
conquer death and triumph over the grave, but 
who now had Himself gone to this dark abode. 
The grave does not only remind us of the death of 
the body, a separation of the soul from the body, 
which separation is confirmed by the dark dwelling 
to which the body is consigned; it reminds us, too, 
of the death of the soul, which is caused by sin. 
As the body lives by the connection of all its parts, 
by the harmonious co-operation of all its organs, 
and by the power of life that pervades all of them, 



204 THE INNER LIFE 

so the soul can live only by its connection with the 
spiritual world, and by the power of God that 
reigns in it and animates it. This connection being 
destroyed by sin, the divine power is excluded and 
the soul is dead. The dust, into which the body is 
converted after death, does not feel its deprivation 
of life ; but the soul, separated from God, is con- 
scious of its death ; and as often as it thinks of 
death, of its separation from the source of life, it 
cannot help feeling a horror which fills the heart 
with sadness, and with a desire after One who can 
restore it to life again. When Mary stood at the 
grave of the Lord, who had promised the restora- 
tion of the soul to life and the annihilation of the 
power of sin, what else could she do but weep? and 
how could she feel otherwise than sad ? Joy, per- 
manent joy, we can possess only when a sense of 
everlasting life pervades us. But when we desire 
to know whether an all-controlling love exists be- 
yond the stars — whether, when death has separated 
soul and body, we will ourselves continue to live 
and meet our departed friends again ; when we 
desire to know this, and have no means to satisfy 
our desire, then we must feel sad. Such sadness 
does not depend on external circumstances, but 
only and exclusively on the absence of faith. 
Whether fortune smiles or frowns upon us, if we 
have faith, we will be cheerful; on the other hand, 
nothing can remove our sadness, so long as sin 
keeps alive the consciousness of the separation of 



OF MARY MAGDALENE. 205 

our souls from God and everlasting life. This 
was the sadness of Mary ; from it her love to the 
Saviour proceeded, while lie was yet alive ; and 
from it her tears flowed when she thought Him 
dead. She knew only of one joy, — to be with the 
Saviour; with Him her time passed by like a festi- 
val, but without Him her heart must break. 

But let us notice the place where she wept : "She 
stood" John says, "without, at the sepulchre" when 
she wept. As soon, however, as she looks into the 
grave, as soon as she bends herself to examine it, 
her eyes perceive two angels, the one sitting at the 
head and the other at the foot of the place where 
Jesus had been lying. Yet Mary, absorbed in her 
grief, does not perceive that those before her are 
angels. Having lost Him to whom she had devoted 
herself with lasting gratitude, whom she served 
with the deepest tenderness, for whose promises she 
had been waiting, whom she loved and revered in 
greatest sincerity and earnestness — the whole world 
is without interest to her, is empty for her, how- 
ever much it may offer to the eye. Her state may 
be compared to that of a traveller, who follows with 
his eyes the setting sun, and watches it with in- 
tense delight until it sinks beneath the horizon; 
wherever then he turns his eyes, he perceives on 
every plant and every object nothing but the image 
of the sun. So Mary's eyes, clouded by tears, can- 
not see anything distinctly, except that she has 
suffered an irreparable loss. This heavy thought 

18 



206 THE INNER LIFE 

reigns in her bosom, and shuts up every avenue to 
any other idea that might present itself from with- 
out. 

Yet what Mary could not see, we can see now. 
Angels accompanying our Lord through life, followed 
Him into the grave. These invisible powers were 
invisibly active to develop a new life, a power which 
should conquer death and triumph over the grave. 
Angels are immortal. Their nature forms a most 
striking contrast with the work of death. Whoever 
sees them in a grave cannot but be reminded, that 
whilst all that is earthly must die, there is some- 
thing which will live forever ; that whilst all be- 
longing to time is finite, there is something which 
is infinite — which will continue after all that the 
eye can see shall have perished. It is impossible 
for our thoughts to be altogether occupied with 
death, when we see beings before our eyes that are 
immortal. But Mary did not recognize angels ; for 
her mind was too full of the idea of mortality, 
decay and disappointment. 

Woman, why weepest thou ? the angels inquire. 
They ask this question, not from ignorance of the 
cause of Mary's tears, but from wonder and aston- 
ishment. " What cause have you to weep, when 
you stand at the grave of the Saviour who has 
broken the chains of death ? See, there is no 
death in this grave, no decay, no destruction ; this 
grave is not the abode of confusion, darkness and 
fear, but it is the sweet and cheerful chamber of 



OF MART MAGDALENE. 207 

life, where light, order and regularity reign. Here 
everything is in its proper place. Here lies the 
napkin, there the linen. Nothing indicates the 
power of death, but all manifests a peaceful, silent, 
and miraculous development of life. Here there is 
no cause for weeping ; here there is no tomb, not a 
chamber of death ; here is the peaceful haven of 
rest, the smiling region of hope." 

But Mary did not understand the meaning of 
the question. Occupied with one thought, filled 
with one grief, seeking One only and turning away 
from all that is not Himself, she says, with female 
naivete, They have taken away my Lord, and I 
know not ichere they have laid Him. 

These words, so tender and affecting, betrayed a 
childlike innocence and an attachment to Christ, 
of which the tender nature of woman alone is sus- 
ceptible. She does not doubt for a moment but that 
the persons before her know whom she means by 
the words, My Lord. She knows of but One who 
is her Lord ; Him alone she seeks ; to Him alone 
she belongs ; His feet she had washed with her 
tears ; Him she had followed to the cross, not 
shrinking from the sight of scattered skulls, but 
exposing herself to many dangers and especially 
to the revilings of a rude and unfeeling crowd ; 
Him she would now go to seek, and if dangers of 
all kinds impede her delicate feet. There is a 
beauty in the love and sadness of Mary, which 
attracts us the more strongly, the more we examine 



208 THE INNER LIFE 

it ; the pen of man can never describe it ; it must 
be felt. 

When we contrast Mary's love with our own indif- 
ference to our Saviour; we must feel ashamed and 
humbled in the dust. There was a time when the 
Eastern continent, overflowed with infidelity, had 
taken away the Lord, and no one asked where He 
had been laid. And even now in our own land 
are we surrounded by sects, that have stolen the 
Lord and buried Him, w r e cannot tell where. They 
have buried Him in their reason, and deny that He 
exists any longer. They have put their trust in 
that fallible and uncertain power, whose delight it 
is to doubt its own assertions — to doubt the only 
true Friend of our souls, on whom alone our peace 
rests on earth and our hope in the hour of death. 
They have removed Him out of their sight, lest 
some should adhere to Him and forsake them. 
Oh ! that many would turn and ask, like Mary, 
You have taken away our Lord; tell us where you 
have laid Him, that we may go and seek Him ! 
that their tears might flow and veil their eyes, so 
that they could see nothing but Christ, who loved 
them and died for them ! 

Again : When Mary in her grief had thus 
spoken, she turned herself back, and saw Jesus and 
knew not that it was Jesus. He whom she seeks is 
close by her to console her, to comfort her, but she 
does not know Him ; He stands at her side, but 
she seeks Him at a distance; He speaks to her, but 



O F M A R Y V A G I) A L E N E. 209 

she does not recognize His voice. What is the 
cause of all this? As Thomas was determined not 
to believe in the resurrection of Christ, so Mary, 
feeling convinced that lie was dead, could not for a 
moment hope to see Him alive again. Grief and 
hope exclude each other ; when one fully takes 
possession of the mind the other must depart. 
Mary loves the Saviour, but she is not yet able to 
believe. Hence it is, that though Christ speaks to 
her by the angels, and though He speaks to her 
Himself, she, absorbed in the thought and the re- 
membrance of the dead, cannot see the living. 
And is it otherwise with us ? Christ is near us 
when we mourn, to comfort us — when we tremble 
in the storms of life, to strengthen us — when we 
have no rest in our bosoms, to give us peace — when 
passions rage within, to advise us, to direct us, to 
guide us. And though He is near us and speaks 
to us through conscience, by His Word, by adver- 
sity and prosperity, we do not hear Him, we do 
not recognize Him. It is faith alone that discovers 
the Lord in all that surrounds us. Hence the true 
believer, who desires to see the Lord and only the 
Lord, perceives Him everywhere. To him He 
appears in the rays of the morning sun ; the even- 
ing breezes whisper the name of the Saviour in his 
ear ; when the dewdrops sparkle, when the stars 
of the night glitter, he feels that the Lord is near; 
for all that is reminds him of the Lord, points to 
Him, comes from Him, and leads to Him. 

18* 



210 THE INNER LITE 

Yet, though we may be unwilling and unable, 
by our own thoughts, to recognize the Lord, He can 
make Himself known to us, since His power ex- 
ceeds every other power. Mary I He calls ; and 
she who had lost herself in seeking the Friend of 
her soul, finds at once both herself and Him again. 

There is a kind of grief whose strength absorbs 
every other feeling. In it we lose all desire for 
food and drink and for everything else ; our 
thoughts are no longer ours, or at our command, 
but they centre without our knowledge or will 
upon our affliction, which, like a whirlpool, draws 
within itself whatever comes near it, every desire, 
every wish, and every thought. The greatness of 
such grief overpowers us, and we are lost in it. 
Whatever is spoken to us cannot console us, for we 
have an ear only to listen to the sighs of our 
broken hearts. Neither kindness nor love can 
cheer us, for we are inaccessible to them. In such 
a state, nothing can help us but a power which is 
able to bring us back to ourselves. Whoever, at 
any time, has stood beside a friend under the domi- 
nion of such a grief; whoever has tried, and tried in 
vain, to administer comfort and consolation, in every 
way and by all means, will know that then the 
fulness of his love and sympathy burst forth in 
simply calling his dear friend by his name. So a 
mother does, when the little babe on her arms can- 
not be silenced by any other means. So Christ 
did, when he stood before Mary. The name by 



OF MARY MAGDALENE. 211 

which friends call us, exercises a peculiar power 
over us. Though our internal being cannot be ex- 
pressed by a mere word, a mere name, friends, 
nevertheless, indicate clearly, by the tone in which 
they pronounce it, that in the name they wish to 
comprise all they love in us. Our Saviour, there- 
fore, frequently either humbles or elevates His dis- 
ciples by the manner in which He addresses them 
by name. Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me ? 
He says to him who denied Him. The name which 
the love of the Saviour had given this disciple was 
Peter. But when Jesus wishes to humble him, he 
calls him, not by the name of love, but by the 
name he had whilst in a state of sin. On the 
other hand, when He would console Mary, He only 
pronounces her name. If we had heard the sound 
falling from His lips, and perceived the love, tender- 
ness and compassion which it expressed, we could 
understand it better. Mary, having lost herself in 
grief, was now brought back again to herself by 
hearing the Saviour's lips call her by name, in the 
same tone of love in which she had so often heard 
Him pronounce it before. 

But this is not all. The remark I made with 
regard to Thomas is true of Mary also. The will 
of the Lord accompanied the word spoken and pro- 
duced such sudden effects. Let there be Light ! and 
the element, not yet born, arises out of nothing and 
shines in the darkness ! Let there be Light ! and 
consolation breaks in upon the dark bosom of man ! 



212 THE INNER LIFE 

The Lord wills it, and it is done. Mary ! He says, 
and a light not known before streams at once into 
her bosom. Now every power within her exclaims, 
that He whom she loves and whom she adores is 
standing before her; that He who died is risen 
again ; that He w r ho was nailed to the cross speaks 
to her and is with her; and like Thomas, overcome 
with joy ? she stammers the word, Rahhoni. 

Oh! that Christ would speak to, and bring back, 
every one of us to Himself! that He would call by 
name every one who has lost himself in sensual 
lusts, or in thoughtlessness and levity, or in ambi- 
tion and avarice, so that each of us might exclaim, 
Rahhoni I or, like Thomas, My Lord and my God! 

But the Lord has different ways by which He 
effects His designs. He dealt otherwise with 
Thomas, otherwise with Peter and John. Before 
drawing some general inferences from my discourse, 
I shall yet cast a glance at this difference, as it pre- 
sents itself in strict connection with the subject. 

It has often been asked, how it was that Peter 
and John did not see angels, whilst Mary saw them. 
The answer is, that Christ treats each one accord- 
ing to his nature and wants. In the case before us, 
He accommodates His dealings to the different 
natures of man and woman. In man there pre- 
vails by nature thought and reflection, strength 
and courage, judgment and a desire to examine, to 
investigate, and to come to a result by his own 
activity. He is fearless, and disdains mere wishes ; 









OF MARY MAGDALENE. 213 

he is decided in his belief or unbelief. Woman, on 
the other hand, is tender and delicate, full of feel- 
ing, retires within herself, and always seeks for pro- 
tection. It is her nature to believe and confide, and 
when she can do neither, tears bedim her eyes, and 
sadness fills her bosom. In view of this natural 
difference, Christ treated Peter and John different- 
ly from Mary. Let us follow out this difference. 

Peter and John went to the grave, John fast, 
Peter slowly; John, impelled by love, Peter re- 
tarded by the remembrance of his sin in denying 
the Lord. Arriving at the grave, John just looks 
into it, but Peter sprang into it ; then, John having 
followed, they examined it, and finding the napkin 
and the linen, each at its place, they come to the 
conclusion that the Lord has risen. They stood, 
therefore, in no need of the sight of angels. Bat 
Mary needed comfort ; she felt sad ; she was under 
the dominion, not of thought, but of feeling ; hence 
the Lord sends angels to console her, and uses 
entirely different means to bring life and light into 
her heart, to change her deepest darkness into the 
highest joy. 

We must, therefore, not expect that what we 
have observed in the life of Mary, will also happen 
in the same or in a similar way to us in order that 
we may believe. As the condition of every one, 
his disposition, his circumstances, have something 
peculiar, so the Lord will approach him in a pecu- 
liar manner, in a way best adapted to his case. 



214 THE INNER LIFE 

Let each one of us be watchful, and direct Lis at- 
tention to wLatever may ripen for him in the course 
of time; let none of us suffer anything to pass by 
unnoticed, wLicL may tend to advance our eternal 
welfare ; for the lowest as well as the highest, tLe 
least as well as tLe greatest, may be used by tLe 
grace of God to lead us to Him. 

Having now sLown tLe effects wLicL tLe se- 
pulchre of the Saviour had on Mary, and how her 
sadness, while standing at it, was changed into joy, 
I shall proceed to consider wliat consolation ice 
ought to derive from the grave of Christ. 

In contemplating the sepulchre of oar Saviour, 
two thoughts present themselves : the one relates 
to our own graves ; the other, to the grave of sin. 
We must all die. One supplants the other, and in 
turn lie is Limself supplanted. According to a cer- 
tain order we appear upon tLe stage of activity, 
and according to a certain order we are called off 
again, tLe one amid joy and happiness, the other 
amid grief and distress. Whoever may have shone 
in honor or power, whoever may have been weighed 
down by the troubles and cares of his short exist- 
ence, the one as well as the other, is destined to be 
confined to a solitary grave, there to moulder and 
be forgotten. At tLe end of our stiort journey the 
grave awaits every one of us, and yawns to receive 
whatever lives. Millions of graves are lying under 
the heavens, and every evening the pale light of 
the stars falls upon new ones. When we see the 



OF MARY MAGDALENE, 215 

work of death around us, can we, much as we 
would desire it, avoid thinking that our time also 
will soon come, when we shall be alone and ex- 
cluded from the light of the sun; when we must 
part with the sweet and lovely habit, to be and to 
live, and when a stone, which we shall not be able 
to roll off, will close up our dark and narrow dwell- 
ing ? We are young yet ; some of us at least are 
in the bloom of life; but death is not satisfied with 
plucking the superannuated, gray-headed sire, who, 
like ripe fruit, by its own weight, separates himself 
from the tree of life and falls into the hand of death ; 

it likewise seizes the little child, when its first 

* 

smiles have scarcely saluted the light of the sun, 
and with great ease converts the cradle into a 
coffin. When, now, we reflect on the grave of the 
Saviour, we must think of our own also ; it is our 
duty to do so ; and when we see the stone rolled off 
from the tomb of Christ, we cannot help asking our- 
selves : Who will roll off the stone from our graves ? 
or shall it remain forever upon them ? Shall these 
members that now form a whole, that now are ani- 
mated by the same stream of life, and that we call 
our own, never be united again after they have once 
been dissolved into dust? 

But again : Reflecting on the grave of the Saviour, 
we cannot help thinking of sin, which is followed 
by death, as death is by the grave. If the stone 
that lies on the grave is heavy and impenetrable, 
and renders our dark abode inaccessible, the stone 



216 THE INNER LIFE 

of sin that lies on our hearts is still more so ; and 
if we cannot remove the former, we can much less 
remove the latter. Its weight is heavy, and presses 
us down : as the stone on the grave excludes the 
light of the sun, so the stone on our hearts excludes 
us from communion with God, impedes every noble 
endeavor, and shuts us up within the sphere of our 
own transgressions and of our ruin. And at no 
time will the stone of sin press harder upon the 
unbelieving, than in the hour of death. Fear will 
seize them then ; for, to meet an offended Judge, 
without the hope of pardon, is an awful thought. 
To go into eternity without knowing what awaits 
them there, must render the hour of death more 
terrible than the most glowing imagination can re- 
present it to be. 

When such thoughts cast us down, and we reflect 
upon Mary Magdalene at the sepulchre of our Sa- 
viour, we are disposed to ask : What consolation 
may be derived from the grave of Christ ? 

The grave of Christ w r as the first that could not 
retain its prey. He whom death attempted to de- 
stroy, came forth a conqueror over it. In rolling 
off the stone from His grave, He rolled off the 
stone of sin from the hearts of all those who believe 
in Him. The grave can no longer alarm the be- 
liever in Christ; for the Prince of Life, of His own 
free will, and from a desire to redeem us from the 
terrors of death, sank into it. The believer knows 
that the hour is coming, in the which all who are 



OF MARY MAGDALENE. 217 

in their graves shall hear the voice of the Son of 
God, and shall come forth; they that have done 
good unto the resurrection of life, but they that 
have done evil unto the resurrection of damnation. 
Before Christ had suffered death, the grave was 
dark, but now light shines around and in it. Its 
terrors are gone ; it rather invites all those who, 
weary of life, and worn out by sufferings and cares 
and anxieties, long for a haven of rest, to throw off 
their burdens and retire from the world. It invites 
the unfortunate, on whom the sun of life never sent 
a ray of joy and happiness, to corne, leaving all 
solicitude and every kind of painful anxiety behind. 
For the grave also is the house of God and the gate 
of Heaven ; there we shall lie down and sleep in 
peace, for we know that those who die in the Lord 
are blessed. 

Again : To the believer, who reflects on the 
sepulchre of Christ, the grave is no longer the 
workhouse of destruction, but the silent chamber 
in which a new life will develop itself. The germ 
of a new creation may be discovered in the midst 
of destruction. As soon as we become the prey of 
death, it may commence the work of dissolving 
our bodies ; but we have a right to hope that all 
the parts will be reunited, and that, in a glorified 
state, the same bodies will again be connected with 
our souls. For Christ rose from the dead, and be- 
came the first fruits of them that sleep ; and as all 
die in Adam, so all shall live in Christ. This rai- 

19 



218 THE INNER LIFE 

menty which we shall have to hand over to the 
grave, will be restored to us again. For what is 
sown in dishonor, will be raised in glory ; what is 
sown in weakness, will be raised in power ; what 
is sown a natural body, will be raised a spiritual 
body. The body is the seed sown by the hand of 
the Lord, to germinate and ripen for eternity. 
Since Christ has burst the chains of death, it can- 
not retain us ; but w r e shall come forth formed for 
Heaven, and fit to enter the perfect glory of the 
Father. 

Now we say to him who stands at the grave of 
a friend, and weeps because he remembers with 
sadness the ashes which once inclosed the soul he 
loved : Go to the grave of the Saviour, meditate on 
what He has done for you, and dry your tears. 
Honor the memory of the deceased, but no longer 
consider them dead. They live, and the connection 
between them and yourselves is not destroyed. 
They are citizens of the city of God, to which w r e 
also belong by faith, and which we hope to enter 
in the hour of death, when we shall meet them 
again. Having stood at the graves of our friends, 
and remembered them with sadness, we ought to 
leave them strengthened in faith and rejoicing in 
hope. 

Different, however, very different is the condition 
of those who have not embraced the Saviour. His 
grave exists for them as well as for us ; they see 
the stone rolled off as well as we ; but the stone of 



OF MARY MAGDALENE. 219 

sin still rests on their hearts; and though they can 
see the entrance to the grave, they cannot see an 
egress from it. When in the hour of death the 
face grows pale — when the blood begins to circulate 
but slowly, and the heart to beat irregularly — 
when their eyes grow dim, and darkness surrounds 
them, then it will be in vain for them to exclaim 
with the great poet in the struggle of death : More 
light ! more light ! They must go, and they will go 
in despair. They must go to meet their Judge, and 
they will be without hope or consolation. The 
grave yawns to receive them, an eternity awaits 
them, but what it will be to them they cannot 
know. 

May Christ call each one of us by name, as He 
did Mary. In regard to every one of us, may He 
speak as He did at the grave of Lazarus : Take 
away the stone. May the stone of sin be removed 
from the hearts of all, so that all of us may believe 
in Christ, and have everlasting life through Him. 
Amen. 



THE SOCIAL JOYS OF THE INNER LIFE, 

John 2 : 1-11. 

Lord, our heavenly Father ! Thou art a great 
and a holy God, full of power and wisdom, but we 
are weak and frail beings, full of sin and unclean - 
ness, and not worthy to take Thy holy Name upon 
our polluted lips. And yet we appear before Thee 
to adore and worship Thee, for Thou hast permit- 
ted us to call Thee our Father, to pray to Thee, and 
express our gratitude and our wants before Thy 
throne. Lord ! we come not in our own name, but 
in the name of our Saviour, for whose sake we 
would pray Thee to hear us. 

We would thank Thee, Lord ! for Thy continued 
goodness towards us. Thou hast been with us, 
Lord, from our earliest youth ; Thou hast pro- 
tected us from many dangers, and given us food 
and clothing, health and strength, and reason ; 
and Thou hast given us many opportunities to 
know Thee rightly ; Thou hast preserved us until 
this day, and again hast granted us the privilege 
to read Thy word and to listen to it. God ! grant 
that these many precious privileges may not pass 
by, without our making a proper use of them ; that 



THE SOCIAL JOYS OF THE INNER LIFE. 221 

they may not render us more guilty and more care- 
less, but may they lead us to Thee, and make us 
acquainted with our characters, and awaken in us 
a desire for the Saviour, who by His blood has ren- 
dered an atonement for the sins of all who believe 
in Him. 

We would thank Thee, Lord, this morning, for all 
the valuable opportunities we enjoy to cultivate 
our minds and prepare ourselves for usefulness. 
We thank Thee for all the schools and institutions 
established throughout the world, and pray that 
Thou wilt abundantly bless them. May they be 
true nurseries of piety, and may the youth collected 
in them, not merely fit themselves for usefulness on 
earth, but for bliss and happiness in Heaven ; may 
they not learn to serve Mammon, but may they 
early embrace Thy service. 

Lord ! we thank Thee, that Thou hast watched 
over us during the past session ; Thou hast kept 
off from this Institution sickness and death, and all 
of us have enjoyed good health; Thou hast permit- 
ted us to approach another vacation, and to enjoy 
the pleasures of social intercourse. We thank 
Thee, Lord, that Thou hast created us social beings ; 
that we are capable of enjoying each other's society, 
and have in it a source of much happiness. Also 
this vacation w T ill bring parents and sons and 
friends and acquaintances together; and, Lord, 
may every one of us enjoy himself, but so as will 
be pleasing in Thy sight. May love be revived in 

19* 



222 THE SOCIAL JOYS OF 

us, and benevolence, and kindness, and a readiness 
to deny ourselves and make sacrifices, the one for 
the other. Lord ! grant that every one of the 
youth here, may find his friends in health and 
prosperity, and that the anticipated intercourse with 
them may benefit his character. 

Bless, Lord, all benevolent societies. Bless 
the cause of Bibles ; grant that Thy Word may be 
spread over the whole earth. Be with the mission- 
aries of the Cross. 

It is never more difficult to have religion exer- 
cise its due influence over us, than during times of 
pleasure and recreation. When we kneel down to 
pray, when we visit the house of God, when we 
read the Bible, or when we are engaged in the calls 
of duty, we naturally feel serious and piously in- 
clined ; — but when we are in the midst of cheerful- 
ness, when we enter a circle of joyous and lively 
company, who would expect us then to think 
seriously of God and our obligations to Him ? 
Pleasure will then be the only subject of our 
thoughts ; and many enter society, in order to for- 
get not only the cares and anxieties of life for a 
time, but also the serious claims of duty and the 
warnings of religion and conscience. 

It is for this reason, that some who love religion, 
whose delight it is to meditate on the salvation of 
souls and on the means by which to secure it, look 
upon the most innocent pleasures as something 



THE INNER LIFE. 223 

abominable, and consider themselves safer and 
better and more holy, in proportion as they are 
abstemious and austere, and live remote from the 
pleasures of the world. But this view does not 
proceed from the spirit of the Gospel of Christ. 
Heaven and earth, religion and our daily employ- 
ments, time and eternity, are not to be disconnected, 
not to be separated, but they are to form a whole, 
whose parts, animated by the same spirit, may pass 
over easily the one into the other. Whatever 
view lays particular stress on one part of Chris- 
tian life to the exclusion of another, is and always 
must be erroneous; hence Christ recommends 
neither Stoicism nor Epicurism, for both are ex- 
tremes and exclusive. 

The Lord has implanted in man a desire for 
pleasure, which it would be no less sinful to root 
out than to make it the mainspring of all our 
wishes and actions. It is this desire — which is iden- 
tical with the irresistible desire to live — that fills 
our markets with all kinds of articles, to adorn life 
and render it comfortable ; that sets thousands of 
hands in motion, brings men of different climes 
together, and unites nation with nation ; that 
imperceptibly, yet powerfully, stirs every inclina- 
tion and every instinctive talent in man, and draws 
out what would otherwise never appear; that 
searches for every good the earth conceals in its 
bowels, for every beauty nature offers, and for all 
that may delight the ear, or the eye, or rejoice the 



221 THE SOCIAL JOYS OF 

heart of man. Without this desire the ocean 
would forever have separated the different por- 
tions of the world ; the fulness and riches of the 
productions of the earth, would not have been 
made known ; and the bountiful goodness of God, 
which has endowed man with so much ingenuity, 
with so many different powers and talents and 
capacities for all kinds of mechanical and fine arts, 
would have remained hidden from our dull and 
inactive eyes, and we should have lived like the 
brute, slovenly and satisfied with coarse food and 
the fur taken from the animal. 

Yet while this desire is entitled to our attention, 
we must not suffer it to reign over us, nor indulge 
it in opposition to duty or the claims of religion. 
As little as we should be different persons in the 
Church and in common life, so little should we be 
different persons in the closet at private prayer and 
in the social circle. Eeligion is to penetrate all 
our feelings, to sanctify all our thoughts, to correct 
our erroneous views, and to reign over all our re- 
solutions and actions ; it is not to be a mere cere- 
mony, that makes us feel holy on sacred days and 
in sacred places, but religion is to be our constant 
companion and guide ; nor can it be profaned by 
introducing it into our lives and into all the rela- 
tions of life, for its power is stronger than any 
other, and no pleasure will be dangerous nor any 
occupation sinful, when religion devises it, and 
always remains present with us ; for then, whether 



THE INNER LIFE. 225 

we eat or drink, or whatever we do ; we will do all 
to the honor of God. 

The nearness of the days of recreation and 
pleasure, to which every one connected with these 
Institutions is looking forward, has guided me in 
the choice of my subject. All of you anticipate 
with much delight a vacation that follows a loni*; 
and laborious session, and it will be more easy 
to enlist your interest in a subject corresponding 
with your present feelings, than in one that might 
be entirely foreign to them. The words on which 
I intend basing my discourse may, however, remind 
you of a question not a little discussed at present ; 
but to keep everything away from the minds of 
my hearers, that might cause them to expect re- 
marks which will not be introduced, I would state 
before reading my text, that I shall leave that 
question entirely unnoticed. 

You will find the words of my text in the second 
chapter of the Gospel according to St. John, from 
the 1st to the 11th verse. 

And the third day there was a marriage in Cana of Galilee ; and the 
mother of Jesus was there : and both Jesus was called, and his dis- 
ciples to the marriage. And when they wanted wine, the mother of 
Jesus saith unto him, They have no wine. Jesus saith unto her, 
Woman, what have I to do with thee ? Mine hour is not yet come. 
His mother saith unto the servants, Whatsoever he saith unto you do 
it. And there were set there six water-pots of stone, after the manner 
of the purifying of the Jews, containing two or three firkins apiece. 
Jesus saith unto them, Fill the water-pots with water. And they filled 
them up to the brim. And he saith unto them, Draw out now, and 
bear unto the governor of the feast. And they bare it. When the ruler 



226 THE SOCIAL JOYS of 

of the feast had tasted the water that was made wine, and knew not 
whence it was (but the servants which drew the water knew), the 
governor of the feast called the bridegroom, and saith unto him, Every 
man at the beginning doth set forth good wine ; and when men have 
well drunk, then that which is worse : but thou hast kept the good wine 
until now. This beginning of miracles did Jesus in Cana of Galilee, 
and manifested forth his glory ; and his disciples believed on him. 

The truth which I wish to establish from these 
words, is this : We may enjoy the pleasures of social 
intercourse, and if toe do so in a proper manner, they 
will aid in the formation of character. 

I. The first part of my proposition it will be 
easy to prove ; for here we have Christ's example 
given in a striking way. Christ was Himself fre- 
quently present at festivals, and in large societies; 
for He was far from that pride, which seeks for par- 
ticular holiness by separating itself from the social 
circles of joy and mirth. He was not only present 
on such occasions, but made no distinctions between 
the persons who invited Him. Whether it was 
a publican, like Levi, that prepared a great feast for 
Him, or a proud Pharisee, that besought Him to 
dine with him, He would go and be called a friend 
of publicans and sinners, a man gluttonous and a 
winebibber, rather than in a repulsive way slight 
kindness and polite attention. 

So He went to the marriage feast in Cana, at a 
time when many a one of us would have hesitated 
and doubted the propriety of doing so. For it was 
immediately after His own baptism, when the Spirit 



THE INNER LIFE. 227 

of God had descended like a dove and remained 
upon Him ; it was when He had gathered the first 
disciples, and when the heavens had opened and 
angels ascended and descended upon the Son of 
Man ; it was therefore immediately after hours of 
deep impressions on the disciples, after hours of a 
very close communion with God, that Christ took 
them into a cheerful and joyous company. Would 
not many of us have feared to profane those holy 
hours by so great a contrast? or would not all of 
us have feared, lest the general joyousness which is 
the universal companion of such a feast, might 
obliterate the new impressions before they could 
sink deep into the hearts of the disciples ? Christ, 
our model in all things, went ; He did not ask, 
whether or not the people would consider His dig- 
nity as the Messiah, as a teacher, as a holy and 
wise person, offended ; He went, and John, who 
records faithfully whatever seemed important in 
the conversations of Christ, was certainly not 
struck with any remarkable sayings of the Saviour 
on that occasion, or else he would have taken some 
notice of them, especially as he is the only one 
that has recorded this wedding and Christ's 
presence at it. No doubt Christ entered fully 
into the joyousness of the guests, whose minds at 
that time could not have been in a fit state to 
listen to doctrines of wisdom ; no doubt He partici- 
pated in their cheerful conversations, and added 
His own share to heighten the pleasures of the 



22S THE SOCIAL JOYS OF 

company, and to raise the cheerfulness of the newly 
wedded pair by exhibiting the tender and sympa- 
thizing interest of a friend. 

There is in the whole conduct of Christ, on this 
occasion, not a trace of that pride which would, in 
a nice yet perceptible way, make the company feel 
how much He honored it by His presence; no 
desire to render Himself prominent, no embarrass- 
ment, no fear lest He should profane His sacred 
and holy calling on earth, by being in a mirthful 
company; no talkativeness, that does not suffer 
others to be heard; no desire to show learning, and 
manifest wisdom; nothing that might have been 
calculated to make the society feel that one infi- 
nitely more holy than all who ever lived in human 
form, was among them. Christ was not an enemy 
to the joys of life. Those who constantly frown 
down every harmless and innocent amusement, 
mistake the character of the Christian religion, and 
strip it of one of its greatest beauties — of its libe- 
rality and cheerfulness. 

Another proof of the first part of my proposition, 
is the miracle which Christ wrought. For if we 
ask what the true aim of the miracle wrought by 
the Saviour, during the wedding in Cana, may have 
been, we shall be reduced to but one answer that can 
satisfy us. Whenever we see Christ work miracles, 
He has one of two purposes in view : either to 
benefit his fellow-men directly — to remove distress, 
gratify a real want, or to introduce by them and 



THE INNER LIFE. 229 

attach to them, a course of instruction, some reli- 
gious remarks or important doctrines. But neither 
of these two purposes is the object of the miracle men- 
tioned in the text. For, though the embarrassment 
of the newly-married pair must have been painful, 
because they had either not calculated on so large 
a company, or, for other reasons, had not procured 
a supply large enough for the wants of their guests, 
this was not of sufficient importance to call forth 
the divine assistance of our Saviour. It appears 
clearly, too, that the guests had on the whole been 
well supplied. Nor can it be said correctly, on the 
other hand, that the immediate object of the mira- 
cle was the glory of God or the introduction of re- 
ligious instruction, for this might have been effected 
by different means, had no other reasons made this 
miracle desirable. In addition to all this, it must 
be remarked that the miracle was wrought without 
the knowledge of the guests. 

Nothing is left, therefore, except the ingenious 
interpretation of a great commentator, which will 
solve all difficulties. The first disciples of Christ 
were all of them originally disciples of John the 
Baptist, who considered a life of abstinence, of self- 
denial, of solitude, the only correct one, and there- 
fore condemned all the pleasures enjoyed by the 
world. In this respect, as in many others, John 
exhibited the effects of the law, and, as an external 
observance of commandments and external means 

of holiness, are much sooner and more readily re- 

20 



230 THE SOCIAL JOYS OF 

ceived by men than the principle of internal sanc- 
tification, his disciples no doubt shared his views 
and put considerable stress upon them. Now, when 
the Saviour led them, at the very outset of His 
Divine ministry, to a festival, they could not help 
wondering at it. Christ, to suppress every impro- 
per thought in them — to remove the possibility of 
drawing a comparison between Himself and John, 
— confirmed His views of life by an appropriate 
miracle, which required a power as much superior 
to all human strength as that of Christ was greater 
than that of John. 

Thus Christ silenced at once all objections, all 
reproachful judgments; for now He revealed to 
them His Divine power in support of His views on 
the pleasures and joys of life. This purpose of the 
miracle was worthy of the Saviour. For, ever since 
men have meditated on religion, there have been 
those who w r ere anxious to gain heaven by their 
own good works, by self-inflicted chastisements, by 
a reclusive life ; and here we need not think onlv 
of the Hindoo devotees, who live on fallen leaves, 
on roots, and the like, and remain for years chained 
to a single spot ; the Christian Church in all ages 
can furnish us with similar examples. Christ leads 
His own not into solitude, but into the midst of 
society; not to moroseness, but to cheerfulness; 
not to want and povert}^, but to riches and wealth; 
and the wine He gave to His friends at the mar- 
riage feast, is but a foretaste of the wine of salva- 



THE INNER LIFE. 231 

tion and eternal bliss which lie will pour out to 
His own in Heaven. 

II. In passing over to the latter part of my pro- 
position, namely, that social pleasures will aid in 
the formation of character, let it be understood that 
I speak only of the social enjoyments of life ; 
hence I need not classify pleasures, so as to exclude 
some entirely, and admit others as innocent and 
harmless. Without dwelling, therefore, on this 
point, I shall prove the assertion by answering the 
question : How shall we enjoy social pleasures? 

I answ r er, in the first place, with moderation and 
dignity. When His mother tells the Saviour that 
they had no wine, He answers : My hour is not yet 
come. There can scarcely be any doubt that Mary 
expected her son to relieve the bridal pair of an 
unpleasant embarrassment, and that the Saviour 
Himself was willing to do so ; yet He tells her : 
Woman, ivhat have I to do with thee ? My hour is 
not yet come! Some think that the hour Christ 
speaks of was the one appointed by the Father ; 
others, that the Saviour desired first to cast a 
glance at the company, in order to ascertain whe- 
ther their state w r ould admit of an additional 
bounty ; others, finally, that He delayed the mira- 
cle till near the hour when the guests would depart, 
according to the regular custom. However we may 
explain the language, Christ exhibits great modera- 
tion and caution. He shows no anxiety to manifest 



232 THE SOCIAL JOYS OF 

His great and Divine power, to excite the astonish- 
ment of the guests and gain their admiration ; He 
performs the miracle not only at His own hour, but 
also unseen by all, except John the Evangelist and 
the servants. 

How very different is this with us ! Frequently, 
when our minds are excited, we are unable to mo- 
derate ourselves or appear with dignified calmness; 
if we imagine ourselves possessed of a talent or an 
agreeable quality, we burn with desire to exhibit 
it in society ; if we have some knowledge, or if any 
occurrences of our lives seem to be in the least re- 
markable, we will constantly be ready to have 
others made acquainted with them. We are always 
anxious to make ourselves prominent, and by our 
talkativeness and untimely ambition, we often pre- 
vent those better informed than ourselves, from 
being heard. If we succeed in all this, our cheer- 
fulness is apt to pass beyond the bounds of pro- 
priety and politeness and dignity; our wit, if we 
have any, becomes sharp at the expense of others ; 
our judgment decisive and dogmatical; and think- 
ing only of ourselves, we not unfrequently convert 
the room appointed for general social intercourse, 
into the arena of rude and impolite dispute about 
trifling things. If, on the other hand, we are dis- 
appointed, we lock our hearts, take no interest in 
anything going on around us, are neither willing to 
converse nor to listen, but brood over our disap- 



THE INNER LIFE. 233 

pointed expectations, and consume the hours of 
expected pleasure in silent vexation. 

If then, to enjoy social pleasures, we must bridle 
our selfish feelings, it follows, that social intercourse 
must have a favorable influence upon the formation 
of character. 

To enjoy social pleasures rightly, ice must possess 
those virtues, which adorn the character of humanity 
everywhere. Fashions and customs differ, not only 
in different nations, but also in the same nation at 
different times. They are neither to be despised, 
nor to be valued too highly ; yet on the whole it 
will never dishonor any one, if he should ignorantly 
offend a fashion. But if any one who enters a 
social circle, is not adorned with moral virtues, if 
his disposition is low, his character unprincipled, 
his views offensive, he cannot enjoy himself at all, 
much less in the proper spirit. Disorderly passions, 
vehement desires, are the destroyers of social plea- 
sures. The mere presence of one individual, indulg- 
ing such a state of mind, poisons the joyousness of a 
whole circle and deadens all longing for entertain- 
ment in every cheerful heart. How can there be free 
social intercourse or true enjoyment, where envy and 
jealousy look upon superior talent, or wealth, or 
beauty, with malignant eyes ; where malice listens 
for every w r ord its victim may speak ; and wit is 
ready to inflict wounds that never heal, whenever 
an opportunity presents itself? Or how can there 
be true pleasure where the tongue of slander con- 

20* 



234 THE SOCIAL JOYS OF 

tinually stains the honor of absent ones, where only 
the faults of our fellow-men are the favorite themes 
of conversation, but their virtues are never sought 
for, or if discovered, are carefully hidden. Yet the 
mere absence of those monsters of an evil disposition, 
is not enough ; we must neither be cold nor re- 
pulsive, neither insensible, nor inattentive, nor in- 
different. To say all in a word, we must enter the 
social circle with true and genuine benevolence, or 
else we cannot enjoy ourselves, nor gratify the just 
desires of others for entertainment. 

Here also, Christ is our model. He perceives the 
situation of the family in which He tarries, and — 
whatever else His object may have been in working 
the miracle — He is ready to assist them, and relieve 
them of an unpleasant embarrassment. No feeling 
was too insignificant to receive His sympathy; but 
every suffering, every joy, every emotion of the 
human heart, could claim His interest. And how 
can men render each other happy, unless they 
cherish benevolence and sympathize with each 
other? To live with our fellow-men, to meet 
with them for social recreation, and yet to take 
no interest in their occupations, in their under- 
takings, expectations, and hopes, their sufferings 
and joys, at once obstructs the current of all en- 
joyment. Look upon a circle in which no one of 
those who form it, is willing to forget himself, to re- 
sign his selfishness for a moment, in which every one 
thinks only of his own plans and cares, and favorite 



THE INNER LIFE. 235 

notions, and speaks of nothing with real animation 
and interest, unless it has some bearing upon him- 
self, and you will soon see a feeling of emptiness 
and weariness taking possession of the whole com- 
pany, and every one will be anxious to have it 
broken up. But what life must enter into such a 
circle, if everything that concerns man in general 
is interesting to us ; w r hen we listen with pleasure 
to the joys and griefs of others, and by our sym- 
pathies brighten the one and lighten the other; 
when each one forgets himself, and with genuine 
benevolence of heart, is anxious to oblige others. 
Such benevolence is the strength and power of true 
politeness. 

If then, to enjoy social pleasures, we must exercise 
genuine benevolence, it follows, that social inter- 
course has a favorable influence upon the formation 
of character. 

To enjoy ourselves rightly in a social circle of 
friends, ice must possess a cultivated mind. To con- 
verse, especially to converse well, demands much 
knowledge, a highly cultivated imagination, and 
great flexibility of mind. The mere sensual plea- 
sure of eating and drinking is worth but little ; the 
occurrences of the day are soon exhausted in con- 
versation, and the state of the weather may be 
agreed on in a few minutes. But conversation is 
to continue, and unless w r e have clear and distinct 
notions of those things that are generally interest- 
ing — of the nature of man, of his destination, his 



236 THE SOCIAL JOYS OF 

occupations, his most important concerns, of history 
and of distant countries — we will tire out our com- 
panions very soon. He who does not possess a 
well-disciplined and well-stored mind, a mind, 
that is docile and desirous to communicate hand- 
somely what it possesses, and a well-cultivated taste 
that delights in the productions of art, must be either 
a burden to himself or to society. He will sit, either 
without speaking a word or, if he opens his lips, 
something insipid or trifling may be expected. The 
true art of conversation presupposes rich stores of 
valuable knowledge, much cultivation and a lively 
interest in everything good and innocent and beau- 
tiful; but above all a fine taste, which never can 
be acquired without much pains, and which alone 
w r ill prevent us, on the one hand, from selecting 
subjects too trifling, and on the other, from becom- 
ing pedantic. The empty head cannot possibly 
derive any true enjoyment from social intercourse ; 
fine allusions, beauty of expression, generalizing 
remarks, are not understood by the uncultivated ; 
wit loses its point, and nothing can secure their 
interest except what pertains to their immediate 
neighborhood. 

If then the enjoyment of social pleasures, de- 
mands much valuable knowledge, and if knowledge 
is desirable, it must follow, that social intercourse 
aids in the formation of character. 

To enjoy social pleasures rightly, we must not 
suffer them to occupy too much attention beforehand. 



THE INNER LIFE. 237 

Pleasure cannot be secured by methodical ar- 
rangements or systematical calculations. Pleasure 
is a free guest, and jjiost frequently enters when least 
expected. It is not the fruit of artificial means, nor 
can it be purchased with money. You cannot lay 
hold of joy by pursuing it, nor can you chain it 
down by your determination to retain it. A fes- 
tival, that is entirely artificial in its origin, that 
does not proceed from a longing of our whole 
nature for it, is like an artificial flower. It looks 
like real festivity, but the life of it is wanting; 
it blooms like a real flower, but has no reviving 
fragrance. Pleasures and joys are the free gifts 
of Heaven ; and all we can do on our part, is to 
render ourselves worthy of them by regular and 
conscientious activity. Then they will be true 
recreations ; then little will be required to rejoice 
our hearts. If w^e are greatly fatigued after perse- 
vering labors, we will enjoy rest anywhere ; if we 
feel exhausted from the heat of the day, the shade 
a tree offers, will be a greater luxury than the 
coolest marble hall to the voluptuary. If we have 
suffered long from thirst, w r e will receive the sim- 
plest drink with delight ; if hunger sharpens the 
appetite, we will not long for artificial cookery. 

To render ourselves worthy of social pleasures, 
conscientious activity is therefore one of their most 
necessary conditions. Christ did not commence 
His divine work on earth by thinking of pleasures, 
but by collecting disciples. If pleasure is the sole 



238 THE SOCIAL JOYS OF 

object of life, we will be in pursuit of our own 
shadow which it will be impossible to grasp, for we 
will thus destroy our capacity for enjoyment; we 
will desire drink when we have no thirst, and rest 
when we are not fatigued. 

If, then, to enjoy social pleasures rightly, we 
must accustom ourselves to a conscientious activity, 
it must follow, that social intercourse serves to 
benefit our character. 

To enjoy social pleasures rightly, toe must try to 
carry away with us a pleasant remembrance, ichen toe 
leave the circle. In this respect, also, Christ is our 
model. He parted with His friends not only with- 
out a reproach, but with true joy and delight, for 
He had rendered them more happy by His pre- 
sence, and Himself worthy of their gratitude and 
blessings ; He had revealed His glory and secured 
the regard of His disciples, for it is said, His dis- 
ciples believed on Him. 

How different is the feeling with which men 
return from dissipations, when perhaps they have 
done in one hour of excitement what will mar the 
peace and joy of their whole life, when they have 
given offence to those who least of all deserved it, 
or when they have disturbed the peace of an indi- 
vidual or a whole family. While they are enjoying 
themselves, they have no time to examine what 
they say and what they do, but after returning at 
a late hour in the evening, they cannot help reflect- 
ing on all that has taken place ; then the offence 



THE INNER LIFE. 239 

given to others will recoil upon themselves and 
take hold of their own hearts; then the close of 
the evening will become an hour of account and 
judgment; and how little will any pleasure he worth 
if it leaves a sting behind? 

One of our principal cares ought therefore to be, 
that our whole conduct, every word and every 
action, be pleasant and inoffensive to all present. 
But above all, Christians should never forget their 
own honor and that of their Master. Their whole 
life is to be a continued witness of their Lord ; 
hence they must preserve their full dignity, their 
entire superiority over all sensual dangers and 
temptations ; and with ease they must be able to 
connect the highest with the lowest, labor with 
recreation, activity with rest, heaven with earth, 
and a due interest in the temporal welfare of 
their friends with a deep interest in the welfare of 
their immortal souls. If at any time they have 
cause to regret what they have said or done, all 
their pleasure is converted into bitterness ; for of 
them it is expected, that their eyes will look up 
through all the enjoyments of earth to the Giver 
of them in heaven. 

If, then, to enjoy social pleasures rightly, we 
must be watchful and preserve our dignity as men 
and Christians, it must follow, that social inter- 
course serves to benefit our character. 

To enjoy social pleasures rightly, we must possess 



240 TIIE SOCIAL JOYS OF 

personal piety. In the world we see associated 
with each other strength arid weakness, truth 
and error, virtue and vice, rest and labor, hope and 
despair, joy and grief. Now we long for a pleasure 
but cannot obtain it, and again, when it is granted 
to us, we can no more enjoy it; now we cannot have 
what we need, and again, when we feel no desire nor 
want, we have an abundance. The joys which life 
on earth offers us, are like oases in a sterile desert ; 
there is no transition from joy to joy, no continu- 
ance, no connection, but all pleasures are followed 
by languor; all our joys by some degree of sadness; 
every feeling of interest by that of indifference. 
The world, it is true, can give us single, isolated 
joys, a thousand pleasures and entertainments, but 
it cannot free us from disappointment and vexa- 
tions. The long-anticipated pleasure passes by more 
quickly than it arrives, and often leaves us less 
satisfied than we were before. Gloomy days follow 
the days of cheerfulness, and we cannot help ex- 
claiming, even in our early youth, All is vanity ! 

But if we have piety, if we rejoice in Christ, we 
shall have real joy, joy which does not change nor 
vary, which is the same under all circumstances, 
even in sickness and misfortune. This joy is a 
general feeling of well-being, of peace and happi- 
ness within. Without it there can be no true 
delight ; no pleasure will be a true pleasure, nor 
an y j°y a rea l enjoyment : with it we tread on 
blooming paths wherever we set our feet, and enjoy 



THE INNER LIFE. 241 

festivals without appointing special days for them. 
As there is no truth independent of the Truth ; as 
there is no beauty independent of beauty as such ; 
so there is no joy independent of joy in Christ. 
The heart is an instrument, which is touched by 
all the occurrences of the day ; if an instrument is 
out of tune, the finest melody will be unmusical 
and offensive ; if it is well tuned, if every string is 
pure and harmonizes with all the others, even dis- 
cords will pass over easily into harmonies and en- 
hance their beauty and sublimity. The heart is 
in tune when we have joy in Christ, when this joy 
overshadows our whole being, breathes peace into 
all our relations and gives rest to our bosom. The 
stormy days will be in harmony with the calm 
days, and every cloud that crosses the serene sky 
above us will only heighten its beauty. Then we 
shall feel assured that a kind Father rules over us, 
that the love of Christ atones for our sins, and that 
even every disappointment in life will bear whole- 
some fruit. 

Hence, if you desire to enjoy social pleasures 
rightly, embrace religion, for it alone imparts that 
joy which will accompany us everywhere, unite the 
many isolated pleasures which the world affords 
into one whole, and connect earth with heaven. 

My young friends ! In addressing you so shortly 

before the ensuing vacation, I know full well and 

feel deeply how great your anticipations are, how 

21 



242 THE SOCIAL JOYS OF 

fondly you look for the day and the hour, when after 
a separation of many months, you will again meet 
your parents, brothers and sisters, and the friends 
of your home ; when you will enjoy your season 
of recreation in the house of your birth — in those 
places, all of which are marked each by some par- 
ticular occurrence of your childhood. Where could 
rest be more sweet, or recreation more cheerful, or 
pleasure more innocent, than in the circle of rela- 
tives — of those who are dearest and nearest to us 
on earth ? The delight of parents, whose sons are 
growing up in knowledge, in virtue, and in all that 
adorns man ; the gratificationof good sons with this 
delight and satisfaction of their parents; the in- 
terest of kind relatives, and the tender participa- 
tion of family friends in these sacred joys; — all is 
pure, leaving not a trace of regret and surpassing 
by far every other pleasure. All these scenes are 
before you. The anticipated joy beats in your 
hearts, sparkles in your eyes, speaks in all your 
motions, and pervades all your remaining studies, 
attends every step, and all your walks. I rejoice 
with you sincerely ; and whilst I wish that all your 
anticipations may be realized, that you may re- 
cruit your energies, restore your health, and that 
each of you may have a full share of the bountiful 
goodness of God, I would at the same time beg 
you to consider this ensuing time of recreation in its 
proper light. 

First of all, then, thank God for His goodness, 



f 



TIIE INNER LIFE. 243 

that He has surrounded you with the ties of love 
and kindred, that during your absence lie has pre- 
served your parents and friends, that you may 
meet them instead of their silent graves ; thank 
Him, that he has blessed many of your friends, and 
permits you to return once more to see those again 
whom you so much love. 

But again : ask yourselves, what will be the ex- 
pectations with which your parents will receive 
you ? What will their hearts desire to know con- 
cerning you ? Will they not long to discover virtues 
which you had not when they saw you last ? Will 
they not expect to see your faults corrected, your 
knowledge increased, your manners improved, and 
a determined resolution to form a solid character, 
and become useful members of society ? Will they 
not be anxious to see you sincere followers of 
Christ, that you may become an honor to your- 
selves, to your families, to the Church, and to your 
country ? Will your parents rejoice in your pre- 
sence, if they cannot discover anything of all this ? 
And would not a disappointment be the most cut- 
ting reproach to you, and take away every joy and 
every pleasure from your hearts ? 

Finally, I would beg you to revive the noble princi- 
ples that your fathers and mothers early inculcated 
upon you, and which are too easily lost sight of, when 
you are left very much to yourselves. Gratitude and 
affection render us teachable. We regard easily the 
entreaties of those whom we love. Do not return 



244 THE SOCIAL JOYS OF TIIE INNER LIFE. 

therefore merely to add pleasure to pleasure ; but 
let every enjoyment have a tendency to fortify 
good principles, to exercise every virtue and render 
you more anxious to improve the time of youth, 
that in your advanced age you may resemble the 
tree, all of whose twigs are laden with good and 
wholesome fruits. For it is the true and only pur- 
pose of family relations and family intercourse, to 
awaken and draw out every power of our minds, 
to refine our manners, and cultivate our hearts, that 
we may become mild and tender and loving. We 
are to learn to regard each other, and be taught the 
duties of obedience, the sacrifices of love, the virtues 
of confidence, truth, and mutual affection ; and we 
are to assist each other in preparing for usefulness 
on earth and for blessedness in heaven. 



THE INNER LIFE A SONG OF PRAISE.* 

Eph. 5:19. 
u Singing and making melody in your heart to the Lord." 

Lord, our Heavenly Father ! Thou art Light 
and Holiness, but we are sinners ! Whatever is 
good and noble proceeds from Thee and has its 
origin in Thee ; but whatever is evil and sinful, 
takes its rise in our hearts and flows forth from 
them into our thoughts and words and actions. 
Thou givest what is good, but we abuse it ; and 
make it a source of evil. All Thy laws, Lord ! are 
good and perfect ; Thy institutions and command- 
ments are good and tend to the welfare of all 
created beings ; but we, Lord ! dishonor them, we 
disobey them, violate them, and thus change the 
intended source of bliss into a curse to ourselves, 

* Preached at the dedication of an organ in the German Reformed 
Church, City of Frederick, Md., on the 25th of August, 1839. Rev. 
Dr. Zacharias, who was and still is the Pastor of this Church, says in a 
letter of September 10th, 1856, that he well remembers u the oc- 
casion and the impression which the sermon made upon the people. 
Dr. Rauch was earnestly solicited to furnish a copy for publication, 
which he finally promised to do after a revision, but his health and the 
pressure of other labors prevented him from carrying out his kind pur- 
pose." — Ed. 

21 



246 THE INNER LIFE 

and into a fountain of misery. This, Lord, is our 
guilt, that we abuse Thy gracious goodness and do 
not acknowledge Thee as the Author and Ruler of 
the Universe, and do not love Thee as our Bene- 
factor and Preserver. 

We would thank Thee, Lord ! this morning, for 
Thy continued goodness and mercy towards us. 
Thou hast protected us from many dangers, and 
hast granted us what we stood in need of — health 
and strength, food and clothing, and the full use of 
all our mental and moral faculties. While many 
of our fellow-beings have been cut off, Lord ! Thou 
hast preserved us and privileged us to see the 
light of another Sabbath, to read Thy holy word 
and listen to it as it is preached to us. 

But, Lord ! while we render Thee our thanks, 
we must confess in deep humility our lukewarm- 
ness in Thy service. We have not always been 
grateful for the many tokens of Thy goodness and 
mercy ; we have not been zealous to promote Thy 
kingdom on earth nor been faithful to our promise, 
to go from work to work and live only to Thee ; 
we have not listened to Thy calls, but our love has 
been cold, and our faith weak. We pray, Lord ! 
that Thou wilt increase our love and faith, and 
grant us that disposition, which will render Thy 
service an easy, a joyful, and pleasant work. 

Lord ! do Thou change the dissonances of our 
life into harmony, our slavery to sin into the 
liberty of the Spirit, our lukewarmness into anima- 



A SONG OF PRAISE. 247 

tion and devotion, our despondency into cheerful- 
ness, and our enmity into love. 

Grant that we may never sing to idols, but that 
to Thee alone we may sing and make melody in 
our hearts. Introduce these songs into our lives, 
and let them be our chief delight. May our whole 
life on earth be one uninterrupted song, whose 
theme shall be Thy glory and power and honor. 

Bless Thy Church here and in all countries. 
May Thy word proceed from it in all its glory and 
prove a blessing to all who hear it. Bless the 
labors of all who are engaged in spreading Thy 
kingdom, and grant them the assistance of Thy 
Holy Spirit. 

Singing to the Lord is nothing else than a 
fervent prayer. The Christian Church in its 
earliest stages sang not only Psalms and Hymns, 
but also Prayers, as, for instance, the Lord's Prayer, 
the Confession of Faith, the Gospels and Epistles. 
Whatever fills the heart, will naturally flow forth 
from it. As the bird sings its little song, when it feels 
pleasantly, when morning breezes invigorate it, and 
the rising sun changes the dewdrops into diamonds 
— as it sings, leaping joyfully from twig to twig, so 
our grief as well as our joy will break forth into 
songs, and these songs will relieve our bosom and 
render its emotions more mild. To the first Chris- 
tians, the sufferings of the Saviour, His love, His 
inimitable nobleness of character, were more new, 
more striking than to us. We hear the Saviour 



248 THE INNER LIFE 

spoken of from our earliest youth, and we become 
accustomed to His excellence and beauty as we 
become accustomed to the daily sight of brilliant 
sunsets ; but suppose w r e had never heard of a 
Saviour's love and sufferings, or suppose we had 
grown up without ever having seen the beauties of 
a sunrise — what would be their effect upon us ? 
We would at first be astonished, amazed ; but when 
recovering ourselves, our hearts would overflow 
with a sense of such love and glory in a song of 
praise. To sing, it is not necessary that we should 
even move the lips ; we may sing in our hearts ; 
we may sing while we walk along the street and 
are in the sight of all men ; we may sing, when 
we praise anything with admiration and love, when 
we speak of it with rapture. Without knowing it 
our language becomes more rhythmical, its figures 
more delicate and select, its turns and expressions 
more poetical. We may sing, when we meditate 
silently on the goodness of God, or when we pray 
in our closet. 

Solomon, in early times already, connected in- 
strumental music with singing ; and this also was 
natural. For what songs cannot express, what the 
language of man cannot convey by words, instru- 
mental music succeeds in bringing to the percep- 
tion of every one. It renders manifest our deepest 
feelings and emotions ; now it attunes its strings to 
our joy, then to our grief; and as its sounds steal 
upon the ear, as its sweet melodies find their way 



A SONG OF PRAISE. 219 

to our hearts, we are filled with melody ourselves; 
our wild passions are hushed, and we are prepared 
to listen with much more delight to the truth as it 
is announced to us. The words of Plato are well 
known : the melancholy sounds of the flute, he said, 
reminded him of his eternal home, and filled his soul 
with irresistible longing for something better than he 
could find on earth. It is known, too, that when 
the celebrated Haydn composed his Creation, he felt 
so devotional, so fervent, that frequently during 
the progress of the composition, his own melodies 
would make the tears start into his eyes, would 
bend his knees and move his lips to offer a prayer 
to the Lord. It is known, too, that the same com- 
poser, when once an audience, enraptured by his 
noble melodies, applauded him, rose up, and lifting 
his hands, trembling with age, exclaimed, with his 
eyes raised to Heaven : Before Him bow yourselves ; 
to Him alone the honor is due. 

But if this be so with profane music and common 
instruments, how much greater must be the effect 
of the sounds and melodies, that flow forth from 
that instrument, which for five centuries has been 
devoted exclusively to religious purposes. Its full, 
sonorous sounds, rising from the deepest to the 
highest ; its notes, so pure that no earthly agency 
seems to produce them ; its power, that bursts 
upon our ears like a hurricane of melodies and 
harmonies, now overpowering us and again raising 
us by the softest and most gentle tones ; — all serve 



250 THE INNER LIFE 

to make the organ that instrument which, more 
than any other, is set apart to sacred use — as an 
accompaniment of our prayers and religious songs. 
If some sad and mournful one, distressed in mind, 
comes into the house of God, and there hears the 
choir, guided by the strong and full sounds of the 
organ, sing the words : 

" Come, ye disconsolate, where'er ye languish," 

will he not feel soothed at once and resigned and 
silenced ? Will he not feel as if angels were 
approaching him in these sounds, and bringing 
heavenly consolation ? And when the man who 
has not yet repented, sits under the powerful sounds 
of this sacred instrument, will he not feel as if 
every note, every melody, were tearing open a 
wound in his heart, and reminding him of his trans- 
gressions ; will these notes not serve to soften his 
heart and give him a yielding disposition ? Many 
an impenitent man has acknowledged, that sacred 
music affected him more than the best sermon; 
that he received his first impressions while listen- 
ing to a sacred song or melody. And this is 
rational. The Lord may use many ways to teach 
the sinner, but music, sacred music above all, 
seems to be accompanied by an irresistible power. 
It seems to silence our desires, to subdue our 
obstinacy, to render us tractable and ready to 
yield for awhile our own views and opinions. 
Hence it is that, as far as our knowledge extends, 



A SONG OF PRAISE. 251 



we see all nations making use of some kind of song 
and music in their divine worship. 

With these views on music, I shall consider to- 
day the manner in which toe ought to sing to tin: Lord. 
In considering it, I hope to prove at the same time, 
that the life of the Christian is cheerful, and accom- 
panied constantly by a heavenly music, which 
directs his steps and determines all his movements. 
The true song to the Lord is a consistent Christian 
life. 

Singing, in the first place, must be an easy ivork, 
without visible effort and labor. Yet all of us can- 
not sing; nor can any one sing whenever he 
chooses, but even those who sing well at one time 
cannot at another. On what does this difference 
depend ? If we would sing easily, our hearts must 
overflow with deep emotions; we must be animated 
by them ; they must move our lips and flow forth 
into sounds. To sing without animation, is an 
irksome task, a slavish work ; it is like speaking 
when we have no thoughts to communicate — like 
emitting sounds without feeling — like making mo- 
tions with the lips without corresponding emotions 
of the heart. But when our bosom beats high ; 
when without thinking much and without any 
effort on our part, feelings are breathed into sounds; 
when what is inclosed in the heart, exciting joy 
and delight and hope, strives to break forth and 
demands utterance; — then singing will be easy, 



252 THE INNER LIFE 

and exercise a heavenly and unknown power not 
only on those around us but also on ourselves. 

This then we have to notice first, that unless 
we are moved to sing from within, the song of our 
lips will be without life ; as little as one who has 
no music in his heart, can either enjoy it when 
heard, or succeed in learning it, so little can any 
one sing, whose heart is not full of song. If he 
sings nevertheless, his song will be like a painted 
rose, which indeed resembles a living one, but has 
neither its life, nor the freshness of its colors, nor 
the sweetness of its fragrance. The fulness of the 
heart must send the sounds to the lips ; they must 
only repeat what the heart has sung already ; they 
must only convey to the ear what excites and 
moves the bosom. Every one w r ho sings is aware 
of this. His voice is cramped, does not come forth 
freely and fully, when he is expected to sing 
against his inclination. But when he loves a song, 
then he pours his whole soul into his voice, and it 
will be pleasant and lovely. Hence it is evident 
that we may sing without opening the lips, and 
that we can sing well only when that which moves 
the heart, is the theme to which we sing. 

Let us illustrate this truth by a few examples. 
When on a beautiful summer's eve, a crowd of little 
children to whom care and trouble are strangers, 
merrily and joyfully raise their tender voices to a 
song, we will admit that singing is to them an easy 
work, and will also admit that they sing not to 



A SONG OF PRAISE. 253 

Him, to whom their song is due, but to the intense 
pleasure of a careless existence, which is not ha- 
rassed, neither from within nor from without, by 
anything disagreeable. The past does not trouble 
them, and the future, if it presents itself at all, lies 
before them like a blooming May-day. 

Or when once, full of despondency, the soldiers 
of Frederick the Great faced the enemy and, just 
before entering the battle, raised a song to the Lord 
of their own accord, it was confidence in Him who 
guides the fate of nations as well as those of indi- 
viduals, and reliance on their good cause, that in- 
spired the song. Such a song is easy ; it streams 
forth from the bosom as water from the fountain, 
and quickens both those that sing and those that 
hear. 

Or when, after many years of scarcity, perhaps of 
famine, the chiming of bells announces the slow 
approach of the groaning wain, richly laden with 
the first-fruits of an abundant harvest; when then 
all stream into the house of God, what is it that 
takes them there ? A desire to sing the song of 
their hearts. ' The sounds of the organ swell 
higher and higher ; they fill the edifice and fill every 
heart in it with intense delight ; the choir takes 
the lead, and the free, easy and joyful song of the 
crowded assembly rises like sweet incense to Hea- 
ven, bearing on its symphonies the gratitude and 
love of a grateful people. They sing from their 
hearts, and sing to the Lord ! 

22 



254 THE INNER LIFE 

To sing with ease presupposes, then, that we are 
absorbed in a great emotion, and to sing to the 
Lord, that we love Him — that His Spirit lives and 
dwells in our hearts, and streams forth from thence 
into our feelings, thoughts, words, and actions. Our 
hearts must be full of devotion and reverence. Not 
from mere custom and habit are we to sing to the 
Lord now and then, but always, because the Spirit 
of the Lord is powerful in us, and fills our hearts 
and moves our lips with love. Then songs will 
rise of themselves, and will be the free effusion of 
our hearts, that, dwelling before the throne of God, 
admiring His holiness and majesty, rejoice in secret 
communion with the Father of all. 

But can we sing thus, if our life is not devoted 
to the Lord ? Can we sing thus, if our will is in 
opposition to that of the Redeemer ? As long as 
the schism in our nature continues ; as long as we 
are drawn partly towards the earth and only partly 
towards Heaven, so long w r e cannot sing in the right 
spirit ; for, to sing in the right spirit, we must 
live in the right spirit. The lips that curse God and 
man cannot sing of love, as little as -hands stained 
with crime, can clasp each other for prayer. To 
sing with ease and in the right spirit, our minds 
must constantly rise heavenward, must be disposed 
to go from work to work, and follow the call of 
duty without delay whithersoever it may lead. 

If you say that singing in the text means to 
praise the Lord, I agree with you. But the ways 






A SONG OF PRAISE. 255 

in which we may praise the Lord are different ; and 
there is no praise more acceptable to Him than that 
which consists in doing His will and in living for 
His purposes. That this kind of praise is meant 
here, appears from the wdiole connection. 

Singing, in the second place, if it shall be easy, 
requires a great deal of practice. When any one 
is learning to sing, he finds that all the sounds 
which lie in his throat are easy and natural to 
him ; but others are at first difficult. To become 
a singer, however, he must conquer these difficul- 
ties, for all sounds must be at his command. 

Thus it is with the Christian who desires to sing 
to the Lord. His whole life ought to be one unin- 
terrupted song ; but to have it so, many difficulties 
are to be overcome. It is easy for us to do the will 
of the Lord, when His commandments correspond 
to our wishes and desires and inclinations. It is 
our duty, for example, to gather property, to pro- 
vide for our families, to take care of our health, to 
love our children and parents ; the fulfilment of 
such duties is easy and pleasant in most instances. 
But when we are commanded to give what we 
have to the Lord, to sell all our property and fol- 
low Christ, to love Christ more than father and 
mother, wife and sister, brother and child : then 
our hearts feel little inclined to sing to the Lord ; 
then the mind grows dull, our hearts cold, our 
senses obtuse, and our hands negligent. Then it 



256 THE INNER LIFE 

appears that our souls are not altogether where our 
calling is, our hearts not where our songs and 
prayers ought to be. To sing, therefore, with full 
confidence, we must learn to resign the world, and 
place our whole hope in God ; we must learn to 
silence our selfish wishes and desires, and to subdue 
our most favorite inclinations, if they come into col- 
lision with the Divine will. We must, in a word, 
practise obedience towards God to such an extent, 
that we will rejoice in nothing but in fulfilling His 
will, in doing only what He commands, and in de- 
voting ourselves wholly and entirely to His honor 
and glory. 

Singing, in the third place, must be a free effusion 
of the heart. It must not be forced. The voice 
must not cling to the throat, but flow forth freely, 
to fill the ears that hear it. Yet while a free effu- 
sion, it is subject to laws, without which the 
simplest melody cannot be formed. Rousseau 
composed a little melody of but three notes ; yet 
he could do so only by observing closely the rules 
according to which their position might be changed. 
No sooner are these law T s violated, than dissonance, 
instead of melody and harmony, will be heard, and 
our offended ears wall turn away with aversion. 
When, on the other hand, our free songs observe 
the laws of music, then, without any external 
power and force, by their own charms and beauties, 
they reign over our affections, purify them, weaken 



A SONG OF PRAISE. 257 

or strengthen them, excite our emotions, and direct 
them whithersoever the sounds flow. A lively 
song will cheer us ; a melancholy one will make 
us sad. None that sings and hears such a free but 
well-regulated song, can withstand its magic, gentle 
and yet irresistible power ; unconsciously he will 
listen and turn himself towards the region from 
which the sounds reach his ears ; and many a tear 
of melancholy or of joy has been elicited by a 
simple tune. 

The nature of singing in general, is also the 
nature of our songs to the Lord. Freely and with- 
out any external pressure they must ascend as 
incense rising from our hearts, and yet they must 
follow the direction of certain laws. To sing to 
the Lord, is to serve the Lord ; hence the nature of 
singing is to be that of serving the Lord. And 
here it is where most of us mistake true and 
genuine liberty. If I follow the law of God, I 
cannot execute my own will, and consequently 
cannot be free ; and if I follow my own will, I 
imagine myself free, but do not sing to the Lord. 
This is the contradiction which will always disquiet 
us, until we acknowledge that true liberty does not 
exclude the law, but rests on it as its basis. As 
there is but one source of truth and but one source 
of light, so there is but one source of true liberty, 
and this source is the will of God. This will must 
become the soul and life of our will ; as the light 
in falling upon the eye fills it, and as the eye longs 

22 



258 THE INNER LIFE 

for the light, and can see only it and by it, so the 
will of God is to fill our will ; so we are to love it, 
to long for it, and can be free only by it. Then 
all contradiction will be removed, when we freely 
and cheerfully unite our will to the Divine will, 
and thus sing to the Lord a free song, and yet one 
that is regulated by law. Such a song, such a life 
will make us truly free ; when what is our duty be- 
comes the theme of the songs in our hearts ; when 
we obey, because we love to do so and could not 
do otherwise ; when we listen to the Divine will, 
not as to a power that cannot be resisted, but be- 
cause we acknowledge it to be the true friend to 
liberty ; when what the will of God demands of us, 
becomes the demand of our own rational and regene- 
rated wills ; — then w r e shall be free ; our song will 
be acceptable to the Lord, and will reign over us, 
and will govern all our feelings and thoughts and 
actions. Then the service of God will no longer be 
a dreary labor, forced upon us ; but it will be a free 
and easy thing to serve Him whom we love — to be 
His who is ours — to rest in the bosom of Him who 
dwells in the hearts of those who believe in Him. 

Singing, in the fourth place, must be accompanied 
with joy. When troubles and cares fill the breast, 
we do not feel much inclined to sing. But as soon 
as a ray of hope enlivens us the heart is relieved 
by song. We may sing, indeed, when we sorrow 
at the graves of our beloved friends, but we rejoice, 



A SONG OF PRAISE. 259 

too, in the Lord, bcause He is our consolation and 
comfort in affliction. Singing and rejoicing cannot 
be separated ; if the one ever appear externally 
without the other, internally they nevertheless still 
cling together. There is a grief that is sweet and 
pleasant to man. There are tears sometimes in 
our eyes, while there is a smile on the face. In 
such grief our song may be sorrowful, our voice 
low and deep, yet we sing, because we rejoice in 
our submission to God — in our resignation or in our 
hope and expectation. 

But how shall the Christian secure to himself the 
joy which is necessary to animate his singing to the 
Lord? 

The Christian is permitted to call Him a Father, 
who holds in His hand the whole world, as man 
does the scales in his : and shall he not rejoice ? The 
Christian can praise and adore Him, whom nature 
praises and all things that live in it : shall he not be 
happy and full of joy ? We who are but a link in 
the chain of beings, who are but a step of the 
great ladder of animated nature, we who are but 
dust and ashes, can send forth a sound into the 
great harmony of creation, which sings and praises 
the Lord in a continued and uninterrupted chorus : 
have we not a theme for our songs, worthy of 
our highest joy? Whilst we adore the Lord, His 
praises re-echo from the heavens without number, 
from the hosts of suns, from the blooming earth, 
from the shining moon, from the sparkling stars, 



260 THE INNER LIFE 

from worlds and multitudes of creatures, that in- 
habit the stars and suns : is this thought not cal- 
culated to animate our songs to the Lord ? The 
Lord is our invisible Friend, with whom we can 
commune; He is our Father, who 'knows all our 
circumstances, and what we need ; Christ our 
Saviour hears the expressions of our gratitude and 
submission, and He will hear the last sighs of our 
expiring life : what can there be, that should more 
effectually tune our hearts to a joyful song to the 
Lord ? 

When beings whose glory it is to be created in 
the image of God, w T hose dignity, to imitate their 
Creator, and whose noble calling, to commune with 
their Saviour as with the friend of their bosom, 
cannot find words and tones to praise God, they 
must charge themselves with lukewarmness, with 
coldness, with dulness, and ingratitude. Whither- 
soever the eye turns, in every beauty of nature, in 
every product of the earth, we perceive the good- 
ness of God ; but the Christian's hope and faith are 
not circumscribed by the horizon of his bodily 
eye ; they rove beyond the stars, where a happiness 
awaits him, that no eye has seen, and no ear has 
heard. If he does not bear the altar in his bosom, 
on which the flame of gratitude and love is never 
extinguished; if he does not rejoice in the Lord, 
who freed him from the curse of sin and restored 
him to favor with God ; if he does not joyfully 
bless and praise and honor Him in song and in his 



A SONG OF PRAISE. 261 

life; — he is worse than the heathen, who never 
forgets his imagined duty to the idols his own 
hands have made. It must not be so ; every day 
must be with the Christian a holy day, a day of 
thanksgiving and adoration, of prayer and song ; 
his heart must feel what his lips profess, and his 
lips must constantly be ready to pronounce, with 
joy and delight, the name of the Father and of the 
Son. 

The source of the Christian's joy is a rich one : 
the stream flows without interruption, and it is 
fullest in seasons of need. Knowing that whatever 
may occur to him in life, comes from God, he is 
not only enabled to endure and conquer through 
Christ, but he discovers goodness and divine love, 
where others see darkness and despair. For, to 
those who love Christ and live in Him, He imparts 
a supernatural power, to know the truth better 
daily, to will what is right, to love the brethren, 
to conquer passion, and to resist temptation. 

Singing, in the last place, must be full of melody 
and harmony. A monotonous song wearies the 
ear. Sounds seek each other ; there is a power 
of attraction in them, an affinity that causes 
them to go in search of each other, and to seek 
that close union in which they are at rest. When 
many sounds of the same quality are thus con- 
nected and follow in a regular, measured succession, 
we have melody. In every melody the stronger 



262 THE INNER LIFE 

and the weaker, the lower and the higher, the 
darker and the clearer sounds relieve each other : 
though there is much variety, there is still union ; 
and this union in the variety is Beauty. 

The life of the Christian must possess melody 
also. The variety of his feelings and inclinations, 
of his thoughts and wishes, of his views and 
desires, of his resolutions and actions, must all of 
them tend to the same union and be governed by 
the same leading note, by the spirit of love, by a 
virtuous disposition. However different the situa- 
tions may be in which he may find himself; how- 
ever hard and severe the claims may be which life 
has upon him; whether ambition would decoy 
him or riches tempt him, whether his days flow on 
in pleasure or he must spend them in sorrow; — all 
must unite to make melody in his heart to the 
Lord. The Christian's heart is like an instrument : 
if the Spirit of the Lord breathe upon it, excite and 
move it, purify and animate it, the melody of his 
life will be lovely. But to say all in a word : god- 
liness and holiness are the melodies that must 
reign in our lives : where one virtue is, there all 
the others must be. As there can be no melody, 
unless all the keys of an instrument are at our 
command, so there can be no godliness, unless all 
the virtues are exercised and all duties fulfilled — 
unless all our desires and passions are brought into 
subjection to the mind of Christ. There is an affi- 
nity in virtue much stronger than in chemical sub- 



A SONG OF PRAISE. 263 

stances or in sounds ; this affinity proceeds from 
the spirit which lives in all virtues, and which will 
certainly produce all, if any. If the tree is healthy 
and full of sap, all the branches will be laden with 
fruit. 

Again : when sounds of different qualities are so 
united, that a well-regulated proportion exists be- 
tween them, and that they exist, not in succession, 
not one after the other, but all at the same time, 
forming only one full and rich sound, we get what 
is called harmony. As melody prevents monotony, 
so does harmony prevent dissonance. 

The Christian's song, his life, must be full of har- 
mony. The Christian does not stand alone, but he 
must live in a family, as a member of his nation, 
and of the whole human race. Every person has 
his own views and peculiar desires ; and there will 
be differences in every family, in every neighborhood, 
from time to time. Yet if there is a guiding tone, 
these differences will pass over into harmony. liar- 
rnony presupposes differences ; striking the same key, 
w r e get only monotony ; but striking a number of them 
at once, we get harmony, if they agree, though each 
of them differs from the other in strength, in height, 
and quality. This we ought to acknowledge in our 
daily intercourse. We ought not to expect that every 
one should think exactly as we do, for this would 
produce a lifeless monotony ; all we ought to look 
for is the union of spirit and principle. If we 
accustom ourselves to consider every one entitled to 



264 THE INNER LIFE 

his own views, we will be willing to exchange or 
correct ours ; we will not look upon a mutual and free 
communication, even of opposite opinions, as offen- 
sive, for we will be convinced that we must live, 
not to our favorite notions, but to one great interest, 
before which all individual desires must give way. 
All men taken together form a icliole ; all talents 
and all qualities are not united in one man, but 
distributed among many ; what the one has, another 
has not, whilst he in turn may have something 
which the former finds wanting in himself. But if 
all regard themselves as members of one whole, each 
one will supply the deficiency of the other ; and all 
together be like a beautiful tree, whose many 
branches form one crown. As a bed of flowers loses 
nothing but gains by its variety, when the brilliant 
carnation blooms by the side of the pure and white 
lily, when the dahlia mingles its branches and burst- 
ing buds with the proud calla of the Nile: so the 
different talents, qualifications and callings of men, 
their different views and wishes, form one great 
and beautiful whole, if they are all pervaded by the 
same spirit. And what is this spirit? A spirit of 
love and of friendship. Where it reigns, there w r e 
shall have harmony ; but where envy and jealousy 
torture the minds of men, dissonance and confusion 
must be the inevitable consequence. 

Be it so, then, that some of us speak in a low, 
others in a high tone, some in a gentle and soft, others 
in a harsh and rough voice; if we but esteem and 



A SONG OF PRAISE. 2G5 

regard each other, if instead of speaking unkindly, 
contradicting and opposing, we learn to speak with 
each other in love : then rough and soft voices will 
mingle harmoniously, and we will make music to 
the Lord without instruments. Bat how can we 
love our fellow-men, without loving Him, who first 
taught us to look upon all men as members of the 
same family ? Without Christ there is no harmony 
in families, none in nations, and none between us and 
God. As far as history can carry us back, we see 
the beginning of all national intercourse originate 
either in war which resulted in a state of peace, or 
in mercantile or some other selfish interest. When- 
ever this interest ceased, then the friendship called 
forth by it decayed. 

If you ask, whence then shall harmony and peace 
of a permanent nature proceed ? We must answer, 
not from the sciences ; for though the truth of 
science is general, the instruments through w T hom 
this truth is exhibited become the pride of a nation, 
and awaken the envy and jealousy of others. Nor 
can this peace ever proceed from the arts ; for the 
mechanical arts have invented the cannon, the sword, 
and instruments of torture, and have rendered war 
and national hostility more terrible and more de- 
structive than they ever were before. Nor can it pro- 
ceed from the fine arts ; for though they live in the 
sphere of harmony and peace ; though it was the lyre 
of Orpheus which is said to have tamed wild animals ; 
they are nevertheless likewise calculated to call forth 

23 



266 THE INNER LIFE 

disputes and jealousies. Do not England and France, 
Germany and Italy, Europe and America, even now 
claim each the highest rank in the department of 
literature and art ? It is religion alone — the fear of 
the Lord whose bloom and fruit is the love of God, 
that can restore peace and harmony. Before the 
Lord we are all alike ; none is richer before Him 
than the other; all of us are made of the same dust, 
all of us destined for the same eternal home. One 
truth there is and one love ; one Saviour, and one 
Father of all ; one way that leads to Heaven, one 
work to be done by all ; one spirit, and one hope ! 

Singing, therefore, to the Lord, we will, we must 
produce harmony in our families, among our neigh- 
bors, in our nation, among all nations, and with 
Him from whom all peace and all harmony flows 
forth. And we may know that we do not sing to the 
Lord, but to passions and evil desires, when we can- 
not harmonize with our friends, nor with strangers ! 

Let this organ be the symbol of your lives, and 
of your intercourse with each other. As there are 
many pipes, of different tone and capacity, as there 
are some that will fill the whole edifice, and others 
so soft that they cannot be heard distinctly in full 
and sonorous harmonies, yet give sweetness to the 
whole, and are required to complete it, — so in your 
lives, the strong and the weak, the harsh and the 
soft, the tender and the stern, produce a lovely 
sound, only when they are united. 

But consider, too, that it requires the hand of a 



A SONG OF PRAISE. 2G7 

master, to elicit the slumbering melodies from this 
noble instrument. When the hand of the unlearned 
attempts to touch it, dissonance will issue forth from 
it, and grate on the ear ; all sounds, let loose with- 
out order and proportion, will run through each 
other ; no tone will lead the rest, but all will be 
confusion and disorder. So the human will is an 
instrument which the Spirit of the Lord alone can 
master. His Spirit alone can call forth lovely 
sounds and lovely melodies. But if passion or un- 
holy desire takes the lead; if self-interest, envy, 
pride, or ambition attempt to govern our race, then 
there will be disunion; laws will be despised; and 
the state of the world will resemble the ocean, when 
waves rise upon waves, and all of them rush con- 
fusedly upon, and thus destroy each other. 

In conclusion, let me entreat you not to forget to 
sing to the Lord. Turn your whole life into a 
melody to Him. You who believe — you who have 
entered into communion with Christ, do not grieve 
His Spirit, who is to be the light of your life. And 
you, who are still out of Christ, who have suffered 
all His previous calls thus far to pass by unnoticed, 
remember that those alone are happy whose hearts 
are pure ; that peace cannot dwell in your hearts, 
unless you seek and find it in Christ ; remember, 
too, that to serve the Lord is not a hard service, if 
we love Him ; but it is a free, a joyful, an easy 
work, for He assists and aids us ; it is a song that 
we sing to Him, a melody that we make to Him in 
our hearts ! — Amen. 



THE INNER LIFE A PILGRIMAGE. 

Psalm 39 : 12; 

" Hear my prayer, Lord, and give ear unto my cry ; hold not thy 
peace at my tears : for I am a stranger with thee, and a sojourner, as 
all my fathers were.' 7 

Lord, our heavenly Father ! we adore Thee as 
the eternal, infinite, unchangeable Lord and Father 
of all life. Thou alone art beyond all the changes 
of time ; from everlasting to everlasting Thou art 
God ; but we are reminded by every year as it 
passes, that we are constantly undergoing new 
changes ; that our faculties either increase in 
strength or decrease ; that all in and around us is 
mutable, and that nothing on this earth remains 
forever. 

Every year, every day, every hour teaches us 
that we depend entirely on Thee ; that we exist 
only by Thy will; that the minutes of our life 
are appointed by Thee ; our days pass by quickly, 
and every hour brings us nearer to eternity ; we 
are strangers on this earth ; we have no continuing 
city here ; we are pilgrims travelling to a distant 
country, and are permitted to sojourn on earth 
but for a time. But while we feel that we are 



THE INNER LIFE A PILGRIMAGE. 209 

strangers here, may we feel, too, Lord ! that we are 
called to be Thy citizens, citizens of the heavenly 
city, where there are no more changes ; where time 
no longer reigns, but where happiness and joy will 
be uninterrupted and eternal. 0, how pleasant the 
thought, that while we are pilgrims on earth and 
strangers, we are Thy pilgrims, for Thou hast re- 
vealed Thyself unto us ; Thou hast shown us that 
while we are surrounded by a transitory world, 
there is a haven of rest and peace ; an inheritance 
incorruptible and undefiled, that fadeth not away. 

Lord ! grant that none of us, hearing and read- 
ing Thy counsels, may suffer them to pass unheeded, 
but may we think on our ways and turn our feet unto 
Thy testimonies ; may each one make haste, and 
delay not, to keep Thy commandments. Wilt 
Thou teach us Thy statutes, and may the law of 
Thy mouth be more precious to us than thousands 
of gold and silver. 

Lord ! we pray, that as in the year now about to 
close Thine eye has been watching over us, so Thou 
wilt take care of us also in the one to come. May 
it be a year in which many shall be gathered into 
Thy Church on earth ; may the heathen speedily 
be converted and Christians become more devoted 
to Thee. 

Pour out Thy Spirit upon all nations ; where 
there now is war do Thou restore peace, and 
order, and right. Be with our country, and bless 
it with pious rulers ; keep far from them all un- 

23* 



270 THE INNER LIFE 

lawful and selfish desires, and make them faithful 
organs of right and justice. 

Bless all the Churches and all the Schools of 
learning ; bless the arts and sciences, in as far as 
they promote Thy gJory ; and let all the joys of 
social intercourse serve as means to make us more 
grateful and more devout. 

Dwell, Lord ! in this Institution ; may every 
one here seek Thee, and may this School become a 
nursery of true piety. We all stand in need of 
Thee, Lord ! Be near to the inexperienced among 
us and make them serious ; teach those who are in 
health to be grateful; those who are afflicted, to 
seek for consolation in the Saviour ; those who are 
tempted, to be strong ; and those who are sick, to be 
cheerful. Pass not by those whom Thy hand has 
smitten, but be their comfort, their joy, and conso- 
lation. 

Man stands constantly on the narrow spot which 
lies between the past and the future. The future 
is not yet, the past has been, but is no more; and 
the narrow spot on which man stands, the present, 
is fugitive ; while we speak of it, while we think 
it to be, it is added to the past and gone, never to 
return. This process repeats itself daily and 
hourly ; and every moment we may say : an old 
year ends and anew one commences, for the stream 
of time flows on uninterruptedly, and time itself is 
nothing but the succession of the present to the 
past and of the future to the present. 



A PILGRIMAGE. 271 

But there are moments when these constant 
changes become more perceptible ; not to speak of 
such as may be found in the life of each individual, 
we will turn our attention at present to that day, 
which throughout the wide extent of Christendom 
connects, and at the same time separates, one civil 
year from another. We are never more strongly 
invited to reflect seriously on life and its end, than 
when we become conscious of the fact that another 
year has fled. The period of human life is made 
up of years ; by years we calculate its duration ; 
certain decisive years mark the great transitions of 
life from childhood to youth, from youth to man- 
hood, and from manhood to old age. When we 
remember, how few the years are which we are 
permitted to spend on this earth, that but a few 
of us live to see seventy or eighty, we cannot, 
on the one hand, help looking back upon a year 
as it dies away behind us, with all its joys and 
sorrows, with all its evil and good deeds, and 
on the other hand cannot avoid looking forward 
with interest upon the dark bosom of the new year, 
concealing within itself bliss or misery for each of 
us. But looking backward and forward, looking 
upon years that are gone by and upon years that 
are to come, we cast a glance at our whole life, and 
are led to ask ourselves, what is its end ? what are 
we ? and what do we aim at ? 

The answer to these questions is contained in 
our text. We are strangers and sojourners upon 



272 THE INNER LIFE 

earth ; we have here no continuing city, but we 
seek one to come. 

Life is often compared to a journey and men to 
pilgrims. The points of resemblance are many, but 
I intend alluding only to a few of the most striking. 

I. A pilgrim is one who travels from place to 
place ; having a certain point at the end of his 
journey in view, he does not stop until he reaches 
it. As he travels along, he is everywhere a stranger, 
and though he forms attachments and makes 
acquaintances^ he must soon part with them, and 
leaving them behind make new ones. So also the 
scenery around him changes continually : now he 
enters countries that are pleasing and lovely, and 
now such as are sterile and barren ; now the sun, 
favorable to his journey, shines upon him, now 
storms rage around him, and the waters rise and 
threaten to render his way impassable. In all these 
respects, human life is like a pilgrimage, and we are 
like pilgrims. 

Like the traveller, we are surrounded by ever 
new and changing scenes. Of all the relations of 
life, there is none more important, more dear and 
valuable, than that under which we enter this 
world. It is the first of all which becomes known 
to us ; and is the centre from which we enter all 
other relations. In it the sense of right and the 
love of truth are cultivated. What the particular 



A PILGRIMAGE. 273 

and appropriate soil is for the roots of the plant, 
the family is for man. However the activity of a 
man may grow in extent, he will always look back 
with intense delight upon father and mother, and 
brother and sister. But we cannot remain forever 
in the family which gave us birth. We must part 
with it, and sunder the most tender and most sacred 
relations; we must give up the pleasures of daily 
intercourse; we must leave our earliest home, whose 
hearthstone has become too narrow to accommodate 
all, and enter the wide and uncertain world, there 
to work and toil and follow our calling. 

But the scenes of the world also change. One 
generation comes, and another passes away ; while 
the one blooms, the other fades. The human race 
is like a tree, that bears blossoms and fruits in 
every stage of perfection during the same season. 
Some are born and grow up before our eyes in all 
the vigor of health, others retire and are seen no 
more. As the leaves fall in autumn, and new ones 
appear in the spring, so men come and go. And, as 
they come and go, their wants, their views, their 
desires, their undertakings change. Every one, in 
accordance with the measure of strength granted 
him, strives, by his will and works, to leave a trace 
of his existence behind him ; but a few years are 
sufficient to destroy the endeavors of a whole life- 
time. Nor is one day like another ; but as on a 
tree not two leaves may be found which are exactly 
alike, so one day differs from another day. The 



274 THE INNER LIFE 

one offers us a peaceful, cerulean sky, the other is 
cloudy and dark ; the one brings us soft and mild 
breezes, the other storms and chilling winds ; the 
one is a day of joy, the other a day of grief; the 
one is marked by evil deeds, the other by good deeds. 
Thus surrounded by constant changes, we are 
like strangers, w T ho, though they make friends, can- 
not retain them long. Whoever has reached middle 
life will readily acknowledge this. Ask the man 
of forty, where the friends of his youth, his parents, 
his teachers are. They were near and, dear to 
him ; to them he was closely united ; their counsel 
he desired ; to their bosoms he confided his griefs 
and his joys. Ask him where they are, and he 
will answer you, that they are gone ; that they 
no longer enjoy the light of the sun, and no 
longer walk among the living. Many a spring 
the grass has already grown on their graves, and 
many a winter has made it wither. And if you 
turn to one still older and ask him, whether he 
feels as though he were walking among friends and 
acquaintances, he will tell you that he feels soli- 
tary ; that those who now surround him, understand 
him no longer, and that he cannot enter into their 
views and pleasures. Where are those, Goethe 
asked, in his old age, who listened to the songs of 
my youth ? who understood me when I spoke, and 
were delighted when I sung ? They are gone, and 
I am left, ununderstood, a stranger to the multi- 
tude, forsaken and alone. I sing my songs to those 



A PILGRIMAGE. 275 

who do no longer desire them, and even their 
applause makes me sad. 

Yet, why should I turn your eyes upon persons 
and things at a distance? That we are pilgrims on 
earth and strangers, that all around us constantly 
changes, may be proved by a single glance at our 
own little circle. Consider how much has changed 
even within these walls during a single year. Some 
of those who were with us at the beginning of this 
year, have parted with us ; and others, young as 
yourselves, and full of bright hopes, have left this 
world to go before us to the land, whither all of 
us, sooner or later, must follow. Their memory is 
still fresh in our minds, and many a tear has been 
shed as a due tribute ; but how soon their names 
will be forgotten, and we shall speak of them as 
the sojourner speaks of cities and countries through 
which he once passed. Brought together here by 
the same purpose, and full of youthful warmth, you 
form attachments and expect to walk together on 
the journey of life, — but who could tell us, which 
of you will next follow to that bourne from which 
no traveller returns, or whose lot it shall be to 
travel on till all his companions have dropped from 
his side ? 

Our own little circle is the picture of the large 
one which we call the world. As there, some are 
born and others die, so here, the older members go, 
and new ones come ; the scenery within these walls 
changes without intermission. 



276 THE INNER LIFE 

II. But these changes do not merely affect things 
around us; we ourselves are constantly subject to thern. 
As the pilgrim daily changes his views concerning 
countries, customs and manners, and increases his 
knowledge, so also our views, opinions and judg- 
ments are undergoing constant changes; many of 
us can already look back with astonishment upon 
our former notions. Daily we acquire more know- 
ledge ; daily we are endeavoring to gain what may 
be useful : thus our faculties are exercised and 
strengthened. Our character is also affected by 
time, the source of all changes ; if it be not for the 
better, it must be for the worse. But in no part of 
our nature do we experience these changes more 
sensibly than in our bodies. We are like a tree 
that, while young and vigorous, sends forth new 
leaves and new twigs every spring, in the place of 
old ones; but with each renewal of its branches, 
it loses a part of its vigor, until at length it becomes 
weak, and sapless, and old ; losing branch after 
branch, it finally withers and dies. No one can 
say at the end of a year, that he has not paid the 
debt he owes to time. 

This is so true, that every change which we ex- 
perience, though connected with some gain, is 
nevertheless inseparable from some loss. The boy 
looks forward with longing to the years of youth ; 
he would like to be full-grown and his own master. 
He approaches the long-desired period of life ; he 
gains what he anticipated, but loses forever the 



A PILGRIMAGE. 277 

innocent joyousness of his childhood, when but a 
few thoughts could agitate his breast, and the few 
wishes of his heart were easily satisfied. The child 
has grown up and become a youth ; and if before, 
his senses opened but a small part of this world to 
his desires, now a glowing imagination and a bold 
judgment unfolds an infinitude before the eye ot 
the young man. 

Now presentiments of future victories and achieve- 
ments, of future changes and reforms to be produced 
by a rising generation, float in an excited imagi- 
nation, and the youth longs with impatience for the 
years of manhood. He enters it ; but the ideals of 
his imagination suddenly assume the shape of dry 
reality ; — to effect anything he has to concentrate 
his strength upon a single purpose, upon the par- 
ticular sphere in which he is called to labor, and of 
all the dreams of his youth not one can be realized, 
for nothing but labor and care await him. Some- 
thing has been gained, but much too has been lost. 
Now he toils and labors to silence the cares of the 
world, but before he is aware of it, he has arrived 
at the threshold of old age — of the days of which 
he must say : I have no pleasure in them. Maturity 
of judgment and ripeness of experience he may 
have gained, but vigor of mind and the desire to 
apply them to life are gone. He looks back upon 
the course of his life — upon the temptations and 
stormy passions of youth — upon the errors of his 
manhood, and appears to himself like the sailor, who 

24 



278 THE INNER LIFE 

commenced his voyage with many ships having all 
their sails set, but is glad if he is permitted to reach 
the haven of security in a single boat. 

III. This remark may serve to form the transition 
to a consideration on the end of our journey. A 
faithful and conscientious pilgrim will not suffer 
himself to be detained, either by the beauty of the 
country through which he passes or by the hospi- 
tality with which he is entertained, but he will 
continue on his way till he shall enter the place of 
his destination, in which alone he can feel happy 
and contented. 

And so it is with us on the journey of life. As 
the changes around us and in us make us feel that 
we are strangers on earth, so they excite in us a 
desire for that which is permanent, and this desire 
again will render us dissatisfied with all that is 
below the sun. And what is there on earth, that 
could satisfy the soul entirely ? To be a man, to 
have powers which are limited and easily exhausted, 
to meet with impediments on every side when we 
wish to apply those powers, and yet not to feel that 
the soul is chained and cramped, would be a contra- 
diction. All our strength is connected with weak- 
ness, every truth with error, every virtue with vice, 
every joy with grief, every hope with fear. Genius 
and talents and natural gifts may produce blossoms, 
but they bear no fruit ; the learning and wisdom of 
this world may seek much, but will find little; 
pleasures and sensual luxuries may entertain us for 



A PILGRIMAGE. 279 

a while, but they cannot give us permanent enjoy- 
ment ; riches, rank, and honor may promise a great 
deal to our vain imaginations, but they will deceive 
and disappoint us. 

You are yet young, and it may be difficult for me 
to persuade you that all which man desires, short 
of eternity, is vain and transitory. Let me give you, 
therefore, the experience of those who, full of wis- 
dom and laden with the honors of this world, have 
expressed themselves concerning the happiness of 
this life in terms most discouraging to the worldling. 
It is well known that the Greeks, whose prospects 
of an immortality of the soul were dark and uncer- 
tain, could not see anything in this world worthy 
of their pains and troubles. Their poets sung : the 
worst of all that ever happens a man is to be born ; 
but after he is once born, the best thing that can 
befall him is to die and return whence he came. 
These notes of sorrow run through their most cheer- 
ful poetry, and we frequently meet with them where 
we should least expect them. 

Yet even men of modern times have uttered 
similar words. Franklin, the distinguished philo- 
sopher, expresses himself thus : " If I were permitted 
to live my life over again, I should decline the task, 
unless I should be permitted to publish a revised 
and corrected edition." Kant, whose heroic mind, 
like that of Tantalus of old, had attempted to seize 
heaven, exclaimed in his old age : " No prudent man 
would ever desire to live his life the second time." 



280 THE INNER LIFE 

But most remarkable of all is a confession of Goethe. 
He, as it is known to all who are acquainted with 
his life, was considered the child of fortune, the 
favorite of his nation, the king of modern poets. 
Nature had lavished all her favors upon him. He 
was distinguished for his beauty, for his strong con- 
stitution, and for the always happy and cheerful 
disposition of his mind. His wealth enabled him 
to spend more than $60,000 on his private library 
and picture gallery ; his learning in all the branches 
of human knowledge was unparalleled; the honor 
bestowed upon him by emperors and kings and all 
the living artists and literary men was unbounded. 
And yet a few years before his death, we hear him 
make the following highly remarkable confession : 

" They have called me a child of fortune, neither 
will I complain, nor find fault with the events of 
my life. But, on the whole, it has been nothing 
but labor and trouble, and I can safely say, that 
in my seventy-five years, there have not been four 
weeks of unmingled pleasure." 

How instructive to all of us is this confession, 
that seventy-five years of the life of the most pros- 
perous man did not produce as much as four weeks 
of pure pleasure ! 

When we consider that everything around us 
is transitory and vain, that we are ourselves sub- 
ject to constant changes, and that we can never 
find on earth what we seek, we cannot but feel 
that we are strangers and sojourners. But every 



A PILGRIMAGE. 281 

traveller expects a resting-place, and we expect 
ours also. Though strangers on earth, we have a 
home beyond the skies; towards that home we are 
travelling, and in it Ave expect to find peace and 
rest. The grave, it is true, yawns at the end of 
our journey, and all that lives must sink into it, 
must die and moulder; but the grave is only the 
narrow gate which leads to heaven, and heaven is 
the true home of our souls. Without it, our exis- 
tence would be incomplete ; our most noble desires 
would remain unsatisfied, and the faculties of our 
souls undeveloped. The deeper our conviction is, 
that we are strangers on earth and have no con- 
tinuing city here, the more unreservedly will we 
place all our hopes in a world to come. And in 
this, religion confirms us ; for while nature teaches 
us not to put our confidence in anything mortal, 
religion informs us that the word of God will abide 
forever, and that the day is awaiting all men, when 
they will be called to enter into eternity and 
time will be no more — when their lot once ap- 
pointed to them will be without the least change — 
when their joys or sufferings will be the same for- 
ever. But though, eternity awaits all men, all will 
not enter into the city of God ; for it is a mighty 
city — a holy city — and none will be admitted except 
those who are holy. The day will come, when all 
the dead, great and small, shall appear before 
the Lord ; when the books will be opened, and 
among them the Book of Life, and the dead shall 

24* 



282 THE INNER LIFE 

be judged according to their works. But death 
and its dominion, darkness, will be cast into the 
lake of fire, and with it every one whose name is 
not recorded in the Book of Life. Only after all 
evil shall have disappeared, after the wicked and 
unholy shall have been separated from the faithful, 
then the Lord will wipe away all tears from the 
eyes of his people, and there shall be no more death 
among them; neither sorrow, nor crying, neither 
shall there be any more pain. But they shall be 
before the throne of God, and serve Him day and 
night in His temple ; and He that sitteth on the 
throne shall dwell among them. They shall 
hunger no more, neither thirst any more ; neither 
shall the sun light on them, nor any heat. For 
the Lamb, which is in the midst of the throne, 
shall feed them, and shall lead them unto living 
fountains of waters. 

The end of our journey is glorious ; we shall ob- 
tain not a corruptible, but an incorruptible crown. 
Heaven invites us to come and partake of its 
glories ; yet there is but one way which leads to it. 
We are pilgrims, travelling to eternity ; we have 
no abiding-place on earth ; we seek one to come ; is 
it not imprudent and unwise to continue on the 
way, though we cannot but know that it will lead 
us to destruction ? Or would we not be stupid and 
thoughtless should we never ask ourselves, what is 
the aim and end of our journey ? and which is the 
way that leads thither ? 



A PILGRIMAGE. 283 

This way, the way to our eternal home, I will 
name to you, to-day. When travellers, pursuing 
their journey, arrive at certain resting-places, they 
ascertain whether or not they are on the right way ; 
and when travellers to eternity pass from one year 
into another, can they avoid reviewing their past 
course of life, in order to ascertain whether or not 
they have been on the way that leads to Heaven? 
This inquiry is the more important, since there is 
an absolute certainty that but one way leads to our 
home — the end of our pilgrimage — and that every 
other way leads to eternal ruin. 

Which, then, is the way, on which alone we may 
travel safely towards eternity ? It is prepared for 
us already ; we need not seek long for it. Christ, 
our Saviour, has said : / am the way. But how 
shall we enter this way ? I answer, by repentance 
and faith. But we cannot repent, nor believe, as 
long as we adhere to sin, as long as sin reigns in 
our inclinations, as long as we love this world as 
though it were our true home. Let us, therefore, 
be sober, and circumspect, and decided ; let us 
embrace the Saviour, and, by the assistance of His 
Spirit, eradicate sin from our hearts ; let us dismiss 
all trifles, and whatever has no bearing upon our 
sanctification ; let us avoid whatever may entice 
our senses — whatever may mislead our hearts — 
whatever may keep our thoughts in the dust; and 
whatever may bribe our judgment, entangle our will, 
and darken our views of Heaven. 



284 THE INNER LIFE 

But, above all, do not lose a single moment in 
entering on this way, for though it is prepared 
already, it is nevertheless long. Easy as it may be 
to form resolutions, or to determine henceforth to 
avoid pernicious habits, or to flee bad company, or 
to war against some evil desire, or to exercise our- 
selves in resigning all selfishness ; it will nevertheless 
require time to execute such resolutions. It is not 
the work of a moment to establish ourselves in our 
convictions, to become steadfast in our better views, 
to purify our corrupt inclinations, and to remain 
faithful to our resolutions. The way which leads 
to Heaven is long; for long is the way of our sanc- 
tification, long the way which leads to a complete 
victory over sin, long the way of establishing a per- 
fect harmony in ourselves between the law of our 
members and conscience, long the way of knowing 
Christ, His love and mercy, fully. 

When we compare the duration of life with the 
length of this way, life will appear too short. It is 
true, that when we commence a year, and look for- 
ward to its many weeks and days and hours, it 
seems to be long, especially if it interpose between 
a desire and the possession of its object. But look- 
ing back upon the past year, the length of three 
hundred and sixty-five days dwindles away and 
appears to be extremely short. The poet seems to 
us to see the truth when he says, the hour is long, 
but the day is short. Life is of short duration, but 
the work to be done in it of eternal moment. Em- 



A PILGRIMAGE. 285 

brace, therefore, the Saviour without delay, and use 
every moment of the time which the Lord in His 
infinite mercy grants you. Be warned, too, by the 
lot of those who have gone before us to their eternal 
home. The year which is now about to close, they 
commenced with us, and were cheerful and well as 
we are ourselves ; but they did not live to see its 
end. Be warned by your own frailty ; for some of 
you have been near the grave, but the Lord in His 
mercy restored you again to life. And why does 
the Lord, on whose will all life depends, permit us 
to pass from the old to the new year ? Certainly 
not that we may spend our time in seeking the 
pleasures of this world, and in gratifying our sen- 
sual appetites; but that we may prepare ourselves 
to meet our Judge. Come, therefore, at once to the 
conclusion, that it will be well for you to use your 
time, and all that time may bring, every word of 
instruction, every hint, every impulse, to consider 
your ways and turn unto the testimonies of the 
Lord. Whether the coming year will bring you joy 
or grief, happiness or misery, depends upon the 
Lord ; but whether or not you will use whatever it 
may bring you for your eternal salvation, depends 
on yourselves. 

IV. But, in conclusion, careful travellers will look 
for waymarJcs on their journey, in order to see 
whether they are moving in the right direction. 
Pilgrims for eternity should also look for waymarks. 



286 THE INNER LIFE 

There are many, but I will point out only three to- 
day. 

The first of these waymarks, is & judgment that ap- 
plies the Spirit of Christ as the only true measure to 
all on earth and to ourselves. Man judges, whenever 
he thinks; and because he alone can judge, he was 
said, by an ancient philosopher, to be the measure 
of all things on earth. When we judge, we conclude 
the individual under its generality, and measure 
the former by the latter. Judging, therefore, we 
place upon everything its proper value, and we 
ascertain this value by measuring the smaller by 
the greater. But as long as man considers himself 
the true measure of all things, as long as he deter- 
mines the value of all around him by its tendency 
to advance his sensual or intellectual benefit, his 
judgment must be erroneous. The only true 
measure, by which the proper place and value of 
everything may be determined, is Christ ; in pro- 
portion as anything leads to Him, does its value 
increase ; and in proportion as it is remote from 
Him, must its value decrease. If we learn much, 
but know nothing of Christ ; if we do much, but do 
nothing in reference to the kingdom of Christ; if we 
enjoy many things, but derive none of our pleasures 
from communion with Christ; if we suffer much, 
but not for the sake of Christ, — all will be vain ; for 
Christ must be the measure, according to which we 
estimate the value of all we do, enjoy, and suffer. 

Ask yourselves now, what guides you in your 



A PILGRIMAGE. 287 

estimate of the state of the things around us ? 
Do you judge of them according to the views of 
the world, or do you view them in the Spirit of the 
Saviour. Answer this question faithfully, and you 
will know whether you are on the right way to the 
city of God. 

The second waymark is a will, all of whose reso- 
lutions and actions proceed from the Spirit of God, 
and have a tendency to advance the kingdom of hea- 
ven. When in all our resolutions we keep our 
heavenly calling in view, and constantly strive 
after holiness ; when we determine daily to grow 
in faith, and resolutely to root out all sin from our 
hearts ; when we never lose sight of our commu- 
nion with God, and always act as it becomes 
beings who are called to enter a holy city, in which 
there is no temple made with hands, but in which 
God Himself is the temple : then we may believe 
ourselves to be on the right way to Heaven. 

The third waymark, finally, is a heart, all of 
whose desires and wishes are pure, and proceed 
from the Spirit of Christ that lives and dwells in 
them. Man has wishes as long as he lives ; but 
when his wishes are not directed upon his heavenly 
home, when they all cluster around the pleasures of 
this world, or rest on objects of avarice or ambition 
or voluptuousness, it is certain that he is in the 
wrong way. Whatever wishes we may have, either 
for ourselves, or for our friends, or for our country, 
or for the whole human race, if the Spirit of Christ 



288 THE INNER LIFE A PILGRIMAGE. 

does not live and breathe in these wishes, they 
will be earthly, vain, and remain unblessed. 

To know now whether you are in the right way, 
answer faithfully these three questions : 

1. What is the measure by which I estimate the 
things of the world, and my own moral character ? 

2. What is the tendency of all my resolutions 
and actions ? are they limited to this world, or do 
they aim at something higher ? 

3. What is the soul of my desires and wishes ? 
Is it earth or heaven ? the world or Christ ? 

May the Lord grant that the year we are about 
to commence, may not pass by without renewing 
the hearts of the careless among us. 



THE FINAL CONFLICT OF THE INNER LIFE.* 

Psalm 103 : 15, 16. 

"As for man, his days are as grass; as a flower of the field, so he 
flourisheth. For the wind passeth over it, and it is gone; and the place 
thereof shall know it no more." 

The life of man has been divided by some into 
ten, by others into seven periods ; but it no doubt 
exhibits four, which are no less distinct and well 
marked than the four regions of the world, or the 
four seasons of the year. It seems to be a general 
law, that whatever lives must pass through these 
four stages of existence, one of which is that of 
bloom and vigor. The plant has its childhood: 

* Occasioned by the death of Daniel Miller, a member of the 
second graduating class, of Marshall College, 1838, and for one 
year a student of the Theological Seminary, at Mercersburg, Penn- 
sylvania, who repaired to Princeton to prosecute his theological stu- 
dies ; but taken ill in the course of a few weeks, was removed to 
the house of his parents residing near Shepherdstown, Virginia, 
where he died on the 30th of November, 1839, aged twenty-six 
years, — a young man of very amiable disposition, marked consis- 
tency of Christian character, and earnest devotion to the Church 
of Christ ; the unexpected announcement of whose death cast a 
deep gloom over the professors and students, with whom he had 
for five years been so intimately connected. — Ed. 

25 



290 THE FINAL CONFLICT OF 

the first leaves which grow near the soil and the 
roots, are imperfectly formed; they are large and 
full of a rude and unrefined juice; but, as these 
leaves grow higher and are further removed from the 
soil, as they are more exposed to the air and light, 
the juice becomes more refined, the color more 
fresh and tender, the forms more perfect, until 
finally, on the top of the plant many delicate 
leaves cluster around one centre and form the 
bud, from which the flower bursts upon us in all its 
beauty. This point of existence is the youth of 
the plant; but it must be observed that the flower 
itself reaches a degree of perfection, beyond which 
it is impossible for it to go, and at which its fra- 
grance and the delicacy of its colors become less and 
less, until they finally disappear: then the plant 
spends all the power which is left in ripening the 
fruit, whose weight soon bends the tender twig to 
the earth, and makes it crumble into dust. 

So it is with the different stages of human life. 
In childhood, our sensations and perceptions are 
indistinct and uncultivated; we spend no less than 
three years, unconscious of ourselves, in learning 
to walk and speak. As we grow, our perceptions 
become more acute ; we learn to distinguish accu- 
rately, and fancy, imagination and memory begin to 
perform their offices, when spring dwells on our 
cheeks, and the eye sparkles with fire. But there 
is no pause in that which lives and grows; while 
we yet dream of the future and of the plans which 



THE INNER LIFE. 291 

we desire to execute, the age of maturity steals 
imperceptibly upon us, and though for a short 
time a ripe judgment, cool reflection and calm 
deliberation prevail, our heads will soon hang 
down and indicate our decay. 

Of all the periods of life, that of youth is con- 
sidered most enviable. All the mental and phy- 
sical powers are in their bloom; the muscles swell 
softly into each other; the nerves are strong and 
vigorous; the imagination dives into the future, 
and, free from cares, sees itself mingling with those 
who devote their talents and energies to the public 
welfare. And yet this season passes by most 
quickly of all, and frequently unnoticed by our- 
selves. Every step we take towards it, increases 
our vigor; but every step beyond it, leads to 
infirmity. 

When we consider, therefore, that the period of 
youth is short, that it passes by like a dream, that 
when once gone it cannot be recalled, must we not 
feel sad, that the most beautiful in life shows itself 
only to disappear so quickly — exhibits its charms 
only to attract us, and leave us to bewail its brevity? 
Yet this is not all. Dangers beset our youth on 
every side, as thorns the cup of a beautiful flower. 
The fulness of physical power is favorable to many 
diseases ; a vigorous imagination easily bribes the 
judgment, yields to passion, and leads to perverted 
views, which must in the course of time destroy 
the source of cheerfulness. Many fall victims to a 



292 THE FINAL CONFLICT OF 

nature, exhausted in following the allurements of 
vice ; before we can warn and admonish them, they 
have gone where our voice is no longer heard. Those 
of us who have passed the meridian of life, when 
looking back and seeking those who were born with 
us, must feel like the man who, late in the fall, looks 
around and sees but here and there a flower which 
reminds him of the spring of the year. Joy and 
grief, mourning and cheerfulness, must mingle in 
our bosoms. Besides, many who, in their youth, pro- 
mised fairly, and were the hope of parents, the pride 
of teachers, the ornaments of society, are laid low in 
death, when they seemed strongest. Very few of all 
who are born, it may be said with truth, reach the 
springtime of life ; fewer still are permitted to pass 
beyond it. Such thoughts are certainly sad and 
mournful, and deserve to engage our attention. 

I. Let us first briefly consider the power of death 
over youth. 

This power, in the first place, is irresistible. We 
can exercise some power of will with regard to 
whatever else on earth may meet us ; we may de- 
vise plans by which to avoid an evil, or to ame- 
liorate our condition ; or we may form resolutions 
to change or improve our whole manner of life. 
But death is wholly independent of our will. No 
power on earth can retard its progress, or restore 
the disordered system, when once it is appointed to 
death. It is true, that an eternity rests in the 



THE INNER LIFE. 293 

bosom of man — that his mental powers require a 
whole life and more for their complete development ; 
and yet there is nothing more frail, nothing more 
like a dream, than the existence of the noblest 
being in nature. He has the power to will what- 
ever he chooses, and he has the power to execute 
his will, if it be rational and accommodate itself to 
circumstances; he has the power, to dispose of every- 
thing which is his, and of all nature around him ; 
but as regards himself, his entrance into the world 
and his exit from it, he is not consulted, and his 
will is powerless. He is called into life by a 
power that did not think it necessary to obtain the 
consent of his will ; he must appear at its summons ; 
he must appear in a certain family and in a certain 
place ; neither the time, nor the age, nor the nation 
in which he is born, is made dependent on his 
choice. Thus, man must also leave this world, 
whether he is ready to do so or not. His hour of 
departure is appointed before the hour of his birth, 
but he knows it not; the circumstances under which 
an individual will have to leave this world — ■ 
whether in affluence or poverty, whether richly 
laden with honors or stripped of all favor, — all are 
determined upon, but he is ignorant of them. The 
disease which is to undermine his health may al- 
ready have seized his vitals and it may go on in its 
slow but certain way, while he thinks himself well 
and strong; or his death may be caused by an 
accident which, though it could not have been 

25* 



294 THE FINAL CONFLICT OF 

foreseen, is nevertheless made the instrument to 
execute the will of God. 

Who that considers all this would be willing to 
say, that he is master of his own life ? or that he 
who, left to the resources of reason, neither knows 
whence he came nor whither he goes, can resist the 
power of death when it takes hold of him ? It is 
but too certain that we must follow death when it 
beckons ; that we do not know the hour nor the day 
of its approach; that neither youth nor strength, 
neither the tears of parents nor of friends, neither 
the petitions of pious acquaintances nor our own 
wishes and most ardent longing for a continuance 
of life, can rescue us from its power. We may have 
laid plans for future usefulness ; we may have com- 
menced a work which demands our continued care 
and protection ; but nothing can augment the dimi- 
nished pulsation of the heart, or prevent the grow- 
ing coldness of the limbs, the irregularity of breath- 
ing, and the final struggle of death. 

The power of death over youth, in the second 
place, is great and extensive. According to the best 
calculations, it is fully ascertained, that of those 
who are born at any given time, more than the 
one-fourth part die within less than three years, 
and that more than one-half of the remainder sink 
into the grave before they have attained to their 
twentieth year. Those of us, then, who have 
arrived at the age of twenty, have reached an age 
which most of the children of men do not attain 



THE INNER LIFE. 295 

to. And this great power of death over youth is 
not owing to want of care or to inexperience, for 
all the improvements and precautions of medical 
art have not essentially diminished the mortality 
of youth. 

The human race, considered as a whole, may in 
this respect be compared to a tree full of buds 
and blossoms. Many of its buds do not reach the 
stage of bloom ; and of those which are permitted 
to unfold themselves, by far the greater part are 
shaken off by storms and winds, and their leaves, 
without having had time to leave the beginning of 
fruit upon the twigs, cover the ground all around, 
like flakes of snow. And of the blossoms which 
pass over into young fruit, how little matures — how 
few blossoms produce perfect fruit ? For, though 
the tree be laden with young fruit, who of us does 
not know, that internal diseases, and external 
storms, unfavorable seasons, venomous insects, and 
want of power in the tree to bear and nourish so 
much, will cause more than one-half to fall off? 
So it is with our race. Children that have 
scarcely begun to live in this world, are already 
recalled. With some, the hour of birth is the 
hour of death. Others remain for a short time, 
but depart again before even the bloom of their 
lives has begun. Others give promise of long 
life, and begin to lay plans for the future; but 
they are consigned to the grave before any one 
could have expected it. This we experience 



296 THE FINAL CONFLICT OF 

every day ; yet, while we admit the possibility of 
an early death with regard to every one else, we 
feel reluctant to admit it with regard to ourselves. 
We are all inclined to anticipate long life, yet who 
of us, when looking upon the beautiful blossoms 
which cover the branches and twigs of a tree, can 
say, which of them will fall off, and which will be 
permitted to produce fruit? The chances of youth 
to reach an advanced age are much less than we 
are, in general, inclined to think. For, when of 
every two, one must die before the twentieth year, 
it is very possible, indeed, that he who least thinks 
of it may be that one. If it be certain, that an 
age higher than twenty years classes us with 
those who enjoy an extraordinary lot, can we, 
for a moment, deny the great sway of death 
over youth? and can we remain indifferent to 
its power? Can we live as if we could prepare 
ourselves for eternity at any time? Can we be 
thoughtless and careless ? Can we suffer all the 
warnings that reach us, to pass by without having 
the least effect upon us ? 

The power of death, in the third place, is alto- 
gether mysterious. For death does not only seize 
the young, but very frequently those among them, 
whom we look upon as the future pillars of 
society; whose disposition and character, whose 
diligence and faithfulness, whose talents and ac- 
quirements encourage the very highest expecta- 



TIIE INNER LIFE. 297 



tions concerning them. Their education is the 
object of paternal care and solicitude; their minds 
begin to exhibit vigor and energy; their hearts have 
already embraced the noble and the good, nay, they 
have devoted themselves to the service of the 
Lord, and piety adorns them, and is, in their sight, 
the greatest ornament of man's life. Living as 
strangers on earth, they have directed their eyes 
to Heaven, and desire only to live for the pur- 
pose of doing good, of benefiting their fellow-men, 
of leading many to the Saviour. But when they 
approach the close of preparation for public life ; 
when, on the threshold of practical usefulness and 
Christian activity, death seizes them, and they 
walk no longer among men ; when we follow 
their remains to the grave, can we discover any 
reason why the Lord has taken them, and left 
others, who will spend their lives in idleness and per- 
haps abuse Divine goodness ? When a work, laying 
hold of eternity, seems to suffer by the early re- 
moval of a man who was particularly fitted for its 
execution, must we not say that the power of death 
is mysterious ? 

Nor can we help acknowledging that youth is 
but the period of bloom ; that their views and 
sentiments are only forming, and nothing is, as yet, 
perfectly ripe. Now, if it is the destination and 
final end of man to glorify God, this end will cer- 
tainly be better effected, when all that is in man 



298 THE FINAL CONFLICT OF 

has developed itself, than when some of his powers 
are still in a state of involution. 

The mystery which hangs around the death of 
youth will strike us more forcibly, when we turn 
our attention to children. They frequently be- 
come the prey of death, before they have learned 
to name their parents, to love them, or to acknow- 
ledge their kindness towards them. The earth is 
designed to furnish an opportunity for cultivating 
our reason, for developing and disciplining all the 
faculties of mind; but, before they are conscious 
of themselves, they are already in the embraces of 
death. The earth is the planet on which we are 
to become acquainted with the Saviour, and, 
through Him, obtain access to the throne of God, 
and enjoy eternal salvation ; but children are fre- 
quently taken from us, before they can even stam- 
mer the name of Christ. Certainly, a power which 
seizes so many undeveloped germs, so many un- 
opened buds, so many immature fruits, is a myste- 
rious power. 

And this mystery cannot be diminished in the 
least by any arguments reason, left to itself, may 
furnish. It may see a divine plan, a divine design 
which is to be executed by man ; but when fre- 
quently the best means, the purest characters, the 
most devoted and zealous servants of the Lord are 
taken away, reason cannot discover the cause, nor 
see what benefit the work of God on earth may 
derive from the removal of such men. Nor do the 



THE INNER LIFE. 299 

Scriptures say anything which is well calculated to 
disperse this darkness. We know from them that 
God is the Father over all — that all men are destined 
for eternity and for eternal life ; but they do not say 
a word concerning the cause and object of this great 
mortality among youth, nor do they intimate that 
opportunities will be afforded them in another world 
for the cultivation of those powers which on earth 
attracted our admiration, though we were only 
permitted to see them in the bud. 

II. Though it cannot be denied, that darkness 
surrounds the graves of youth, toe may nevertheless 
find light if we examine the Scriptures faithfully. 
And with regard to children, I would, in the first 
place, repeat the words of the Saviour : " Suffer 
little children to come unto me, and forbid them 
not, for of such is the kingdom of heaven." The 
soul of a child is the complete soul of a man as re- 
gards its capacity and powers ; all it needs is deve- 
lopment. It has the full germ of an imperishable 
existence ; it is of divine origin ; and its birth into 
life on earth is the first stage of the process by 
which it is to arrive at maturity. If the soul of a 
child is not permitted to unfold itself here, can we 
believe that it will find no opportunity to unfold 
itself anywhere else ? God does not suffer anything 
which His hand has created to perish, and will He 
consign to oblivion that spark of eternal life which 
He has laid in the breast of a babe ? Children of 



300 THE FINAL CONFLICT OF 

the most promising talents, of the most amiable 
and obedient disposition, are generally most sub- 
ject to the power of death : is this so, because the 
heavenly fire burning in their souls consumes the 
earthly covering, or because they have ripened 
sooner than others for their eternal home ? or be- 
cause the Lord takes them, in order to transplant 
them to a place where the process of development 
may be accelerated ? On earth all cultivation is 
bound to the laws of time ; it is slow and frequently 
interrupted by external circumstances, and even 
exposed to dangers. Perhaps the Lord takes these 
children, lest the heat of the day or the storms of 
life should strip them of their loveliness — of the 
beauty of their souls, or lest malice should pervert 
their understanding, or false doctrines deceive their 
souls. At all events, we may feel assured, that the 
soul which has animated a body, though only for a 
short time — the soul which is once set in motion, 
will find one mansion among the many in our 
Father's house which is suited to itself, and that 
the Saviour, who represented children as models 
for us, whose readiness to believe and to hope He 
has taught us to imitate, will certainly take care 
of them. 

As regards the death of youth, I would refer 
to the case of Enoch. He walked with God while 
on earth, and God favored him. He scarcely 
reached the third part of his father's life ; because 
God loved him, He took him early, and he was no 



THE INNER LIFE. 301 

longer seen among men. The just, though they 
die early, are at rest. And let us remark here, 
that it is not the number of years, not the length 
of time we spend on earth, which is valuable 
or desirable, but the manner in which, and the 
purpose for which, we live. A man who has lived 
ninety years and has not become acquainted with 
the Saviour, has not derived any more benefit from 
his age than one who dies without a Saviour in his 
twentieth year, whilst the youth who receives and 
loves his Saviour, has gained more than both 
together. 

This, then, is the first ray of light, piercing 
through the thick darkness which surrounds the 
graves of children and of youth. The Lord scatters 
abroad the seeds of life richly, and causes them to 
germinate and grow to a certain height, but then, 
like the gardener who sows thickly the seeds of the 
plants which he intends setting out in different 
places, he transplants the tender shoots, in order 
to give them a fairer climate and a more favorable 
soil. 

The death of youth, however, may not only 
benefit them ; it is intended for our welfare also. 
It is intended to warn and to admonish us. When 
we see the most beautiful flowers wither as soon as 
they open their cups, or when we see buds, nipped 
by the frost, hanging down and withering before 
they have burst open, can we avoid thinking of the 
vanity of all things on earth? That we have no 

26 



o 



02 THE FINAL CONFLICT OF 



permanent home here, we may know even without 
the Bible ; history and our own experience teach it. 
Whatever the ancient world possessed, whatever 
was beautiful in it, whatever was great and at- 
tractive and noble in it, has passed away ; the old 
cedar, that witnessed the lapse of centuries, decays; 
the finest productions of nature wither, and the 
sweetest fruits return to the dust. Nothing re- 
mains the same. Society changes ; the whole race 
is in a state of constant commotion. There are 
some arriving and others going; we ourselves see 
the most cheerful days of strength and vigor pass 
away like a shadow ; and when we think of using 
our time with wisdom and prudence, we have al- 
ready approached old age, and feel exhausted and 
powerless. But if we are taught by everything 
around us that nothing on earth is permanent, that 
all is either in a state of constant progress or decay, 
that nothing remains the same even for a moment, 
and that we ourselves are changing every day and 
every hour, can we help thinking of our latter end ? 
Sooner or later death will seize each one of us, 
whether prepared for eternity or not. Sooner or 
later we shall have to part with this life and with 
all we loved, with all our wishes, with all our 
pleasures, and with all our possessions; and nothing 
will be left to us except the love of a Saviour and 
the hope of immortality. Christ alone will theji 
cheer our hearts, and shine into the darkness of 
death as the stars of heaven shine into the dark- 



THE INNER LIFE. 303 

ness of night. He alone can then sustain and 
comfort us, when we must yield our life to the un- 
welcome messenger. He teaches us that this world 
stands in connection with another, that the soul is 
divine and immortal, that whatever virtue is culti- 
vated on earth will bloom in Heaven and bear 
eternal fruits, and that there the changes to which 
the soul is subject while on earth, will affect it no 
more. 

One thing is certain: all of us must die. But 
when each one will be called away, is known to 
none. The death of our young friends admonishes 
us, however, to be ready at all times. Let us not be 
thoughtless, but serious and earnest. Death may 
approach us soon; what, then, will a long or a 
short life profit us, if we have not endeavored to 
secure for ourselves the happiness of Heaven ? Our 
spirit longs for it; we cannot endure the thought of 
disappointment. Every joy we feel, causes the 
heart to desire another joy that is purer and 
greater; any degree of happiness awakens the 
hope in our bosom of perfect happiness; and all 
the pleasures of earth cause us to long for unin- 
terrupted beatitude in Heaven. Can we be so un- 
wise as to neglect our highest interests, both for 
time and eternity ? so unwise as to see death rage 
on all sides, and yet not ask ourselves, whether, if 
called before the bar of judgment, we would be 
admitted to glory and honor, or be consigned to 
shame and woe ? 



304 THE FINAL CONFLICT OF 

In the next place, we are admonished not to 
overvalue the assistance of man in the execution 
of God's plans. Though the best and most noble 
men are frequently taken away from us, the plans 
of the Lord still continue to succeed, and are not 
interrupted in the least. The knowledge, expe- 
rience and inventions of mankind, may seem to 
receive a check, by the death of one who possessed 
the talents which were able to fructify a whole age, 
and to exert a beneficial influence upon thousands ; 
but when we come to examine the question more 
closely, we find that whatever is good and noble 
advances nevertheless. We are thus taught, on 
the one hand, that the Lord will always qualify 
such men as He needs for His work ; and on the other, 
that He calculates but little on our wisdom, and 
even frequently thwarts our best and wisest plans. 
Our wisdom is not pure; the best motives of our 
hearts are stained with sin ; how, then, can we 
undertake to say, who of us will be the best means 
in the hands of God to carry out His purposes ? 
What else do we deserve but confusion and shame, 
when we see our presumption disappointed ? It is 
to humble us, that the Lord takes that from us 
which we believe to possess as our own. It is to 
disturb our ease and rest, that the Lord calls home 
those in whom we place our dependence and confi- 
dence. Whatever we have, whatever seems to have 
been placed in our hands, is still in the hands of 
the Lord, who can take it again as He has given it. 



THE INNER LIFE. 305 

The death of youth may therefore teach us wisdom, 
hum i 'lit?/, and a readiness to submit our will to God's 
will, even when it causes our hearts to bleed, when 
it tears asunder the most tender connections. 

And, considering this, ought we not to feel 
humble in view of our own importance ? We are 
prone to overvalue our services, or to think that 
the world could not go on without us ; that good 
and noble undertakings would have to fail, were it 
not for ourselves; that we alone are able to perform 
certain duties in the right way, to make necessary 
improvements, and to forward the endeavors of our 
fellow-men. And yet it is the Lord that points out 
the work, and calls His servants. He chooses 
whom He pleases ; and whom He chooses, him He 
also fits for the performance of the work intrusted 
to him. We are His, all of us, from the highest to 
the lowest ; the field in which we labor is His ; He 
sends us into it; He calls us back from it; as one 
comes another goes ; but the work will be carried 
on, whether by the one or by the other. Let us 
therefore learn, on the one hand, to feel humble 
and meek, and, on the other, to trust in the Lord ; 
for He will always qualify some to carry out His 
glorious designs ; His work will never be neglected, 
though the best men should sometimes be taken 
away in the midst of their labors. 

Another consideration deserves attention. We 
who are left should not forget to be grateful to God 
for His signal mercy towards us. Surrounded by 

26* 



306 THE FINAL CONFLICT OF 

death as we are, seeing how few of us are destined 
to escape the many dangers which beset our lives, 
and realizing that we are weak and frail beings, — we 
cannot but acknowledge that God has been merciful 
towards us in that He has kindly permitted us to 
reach those years in which we are able to know 
ourselves, to know Him, and to appreciate the value 
of life. In proportion as we enjoy our existence, 
in proportion as we love to see the light of the sun, 
to use our bodily strength, to cultivate pleasant 
acquaintances, to attend to our daily pursuits, to 
observe the occurrences of the day, and above all 
to taste the sweetness of intercourse with friends, 
and parents, and brothers, and children, in that 
proportion ought our hearts to overflow with grati- 
tude towards God. Some of us have seen our 
lives preserved in times when the friends of our 
youth were taken from our side. We have now 
reached an age that is laden with experience : will 
we not adore the grace of Him who has thus sup- 
ported us ? Others among us are young, but no 
one is so young that he has not yet accompanied 
some one of his friends to the grave : will you not 
consider that the Lord has been kind and loving 
in not calling you away ? And suppose you had 
been laid low in the dust, as were your friends, 
would you have been prepared to enter the narrow 
habitation of the grave with composure and in 
peace, where the voice of man is heard no longer 
to console, where the sun cannot send the ani- 



THE INNER LIFE. 307 

mating warmth of its genial light, where all is 
mute and silent, and you would be alone amid the 
darkness of subterraneous night ? It is an awful 
thought to have to part with this world, to submit 
to being separated from all the ties of love, and 
friendship, and interest, and to be covered with the 
dust of the earth, without knowing where we are 
going — whether a kind Saviour will receive our 
spirits in the hour of death, or we will at once be 
summoned to enter the abode of eternal woe. The 
Lord has been kind to us, for He has permitted us 
to live until now, and to seek Him and prepare our- 
selves for that last of all the events of our earthly 
existence. My young friends, be not careless ; do 
not delay your preparation for death, lest it come 
upon you at such an hour as you think not, and it 
be too late. And if it be too late, it will be so for- 
ever. As little as you will be able to recall life 
and commence it anew in the struggle of death, so 
little will contrition or regret be of any avail then. 
Let us then be grateful to the Lord, and use His 
mercy in a worthy manner. 

III. In conclusion, it remains to mention the 
friend whose loss we lament to-day. 

He connected himself with us nearly five years 
ago. He had commenced his education in Shep- 
herdstown, Va., and chosen our Institutions from a 
peculiar interest he felt in their prosperity. During 
the whole period of his connection with us, he 



308 THE FINAL CONFLICT OF 

maintained the same Christian conduct and zeal in 
the cause of Christ, for whose sake alone he sought 
a thorough education, and to whose service he had 
devoted all his powers. He was truly pious, and 
without ostentation most faithful to all the duties 
of a Christian. Religion no doubt was the prime 
beauty in his character ; its power penetrated all 
his desires and inclinations, his temper and dispo- 
sition, and made him amiable and kind, modest and 
forbearing, reluctant to speak or think ill of his 
fellow-men, and ready at all times to aid every good 
undertaking. The well-formed resolution to de- 
vote himself to the Lord, made him diligent and 
conscientious in the use of his time. With pleasure, 
I observed the regular progress he made one Session 
after another, his clear understanding, his sound 
judgment, and his accurate and faithful memory. 
When he entered the higher classes, his knowledge 
increased rapidly ; but of all studies he seemed to 
like such most as would nourish, purify, and 
strengthen his zeal in spending his life in the 
ministry of the Gospel. Whenever he could see 
religion supported by an argument derived from 
worldly science, his face would brighten, and it 
was easy for his teachers to perceive that he felt 
delighted and grateful. His attachment to his 
teachers was based on his desire for future useful- 
ness ; he loved those who would assist him faith- 
fully in realizing his great purpose. For a long 
time he was under the sole care of myself and one 



THE INNER LIFE. 309 

colleague; constant attendance to his studies made 
us familiarly acquainted with him, and with de- 
light and joy I can give it as our testimony, that 
we learned to esteem and love him, and shall never 
forget him, who has endeared himself so much to 
us. We shall remember him as long as we live. 

But while we his teachers mourn over his loss, I 
see that little band before me whose number was 
small and now is lessened by one. To his class- 
mates our departed friend was closely united ; with 
them he loved to enjoy himself; in their society he 
took delight ; with them he felt reluctant to part. 
With them he loved to study and to pray ; with 
them he hoped to labor and to become useful in the 
same vineyard of the Lord, as he told me when I 
saw him last. There was never perhaps a class 
knit together more closely than the one to which 
he belonged. Attached to the Institution, willing 
to cling to it in adversity as well as in prosperity, 
they saw themselves united not only by common 
pursuits, by the same instruction and progress, but by 
common interests, by similar views, by one faith and 
one object. They had one call, that of the minis- 
try ; one field of labor awaited them, and one spirit 
animated their hearts. They loved each other 
very much, because there was not one among them 
who did not love the Saviour. And now, my young 
friends, one of your number has gone to this 
Saviour, leaving you behind in the world, never to 
see him again on earth, never to speak to him, nor 



310 THE FINAL CONFLICT OF 

to press his hand again. One link in the chain has 
been broken — a link that can never again be sup- 
plied ; for you cannot again so grow together with 
any one else; one has reminded you that all on 
earth is transitory, and that God's ways are not 
our ways, and His plans not our plans. What then 
shall I say to you ? When the heart is full of sad- 
ness and grief, it cannot give counsel. But, never- 
theless, two admonitions I desire to deposit in your 
bosoms. 

Cling together in love and in the spirit which 
animated our deceased friend. Love, my dear 
friends, alone can effect what is great and noble on 
earth; love is the principal qualification of a 
minister of the Gospel ; love was demanded of Peter 
before he was permitted to take care of Christ's 
lambs; and love must unite you, if you would 
realize what you (together with our departed friend) 
hope to effect. The loss which you have sus- 
tained can only be repaired in some degree by the 
increased strength of love. 

And, secondly, consider that, when the Lord 
takes one from the midst of us, those who are left 
ought to divide his share of labor among them- 
selves. The work of the Lord must not suffer, and 
if you would honor the memory of the departed, his 
part must be performed as well as that of each of 
you. If he can observe you on earth, he will con- 
sider it the most noble tribute of respect if his death 
should lead you to double your zeal — if you should 



THE INNER LIFE. 311 

each resolve to be as much more active as may be 
necessary to make up for his loss. Be devoted to 
your Lord, therefore ; suffer the Spirit of Christ to 
fill your hearts; study and labor conscientiously, 
that you may announce the word of salvation with 
profit to all who-sball hear you. Do not forget that 
your calling is a high one, that it demands much 
piety and perseverance, and that you must one day, 
as our beloved friend has done, give an account of 
the manner in which you fulfilled its obligations. 

And to you, my young friends, who were not as 
closely related to the deceased as his classmates of 
the Seminary, but who nevertheless knew, and ad- 
mired, and loved him, I desire likewise to direct a 
few words. You have been admonished repeatedly 
how we w r ho live bound together so closely, may be 
separated in a very short time. 

Let me then entreat you to be careful in your 
intercourse with each other. Love each other ; be 
kind to each other ; aid and assist each other, lest 
you regret what you have done to a fellow-student 
when it will be out of your power to obtain his 
forgiveness or make reparation. 

Consider, also, that only so much of the life of a 
man is worthy of remembrance and of admiration as 
is noble. But that which distinguishes the noble 
from the ignoble, the spiritual from the sensual, is, 
that the latter desire only what renders them 
comfortable in this life — what will satisfy their 
sensual appetites and wants — what will bring them 



312 THE FINAL CONFLICT OF 

some personal advantage. But the noble endeavor 
to gain a home in the world of truth and of holi- 
ness — in the world of spirit, which is above the 
things of time and sense. For that world they use 
their gifts and talents, and whatever they resolve 
and produce, bears the stamp of the divine and the 
spiritual. To become noble, you must free your- 
selves from the merely sensual and take an interest 
in the spiritual world — in religion — in the cause of 
Christ — in the salvation of your souls. To become 
noble, you must learn to resign what others call 
pleasure and joy ; you must learn to delight in de- 
voting yourselves to that which is good ; you must 
learn to offer your life to the Lord, and be ready to 
yield it to Him cheerfully whenever He calls on you 
and demands it of you. To become noble, you must 
learn to love the good and the true, because it is 
good and true. Learn then early in life, tljat a 
noble character — a worthy aim of our existence, 
cannot be gained by a careless use of time — not by 
seeking to satisfy the thirst of your souls in the 
cloudy fountains of earth, but only by drinking 
from the crystal fountains of divine love and eternal 
truth. Consider, that your years will pass by 
rapidly; that earth cannot give you that which 
your immortal souls long for ; that only in the re- 
gions of spirit do flowers and fruits grow for eter- 
nity. Be diligent and faithful, that having lived 
to the Lord you may also die to the Lord — that on 



THE INNER LIFE. 313 

the great day of the general harvest you may also 
have some precious sheaves to gather. 

One word to the citizens of this place. The de- 
ceased used to express himself frequently in terms 
of the highest regard for the many friends he 
numbered among you. He felt deeply grateful, as 
his Valedictory at our last commencement but one 
showed sufficiently, for the kindness which he re- 
ceived from many among you ; and now, standing 
here in the place of his parents, I consider it my 
duty to tender you their thanks in their name. And, 
in general, permit me here to say, that myself and 
colleagues will at all times appreciate the kindness 
which you may be willing to extend to the youth 
intrusted to us; much as we are interested in their 
welfare and comfort in every respect, we shall still 
feel thankful to you for your desire and efforts to 
make their residence among strangers pleasant and 
agreeable to them. 

And now, after we have paid this tribute to the 
memory of our friend, let us leave this sanctuary 
in the belief that his soul enjoys eternal rest. If 
any part of life is calculated to show to us whether 
a man lived to Christ or not, it is the hour of death. 
When all that is earthly sinks away from us into 
darkness, when we know that we are about to 
tread the path of death, then it will become mani- 
fest whether we loved the world or the Saviour. 
In the hour of death our friend was calm, and even ■ 

27 



314 THE FINAL CONFLICT. 

strong enough to console and admonish those 
around him. Thus the Lord, whom he served in 
life, sustained him in death. Peace to his memory, 
rest to his soul, and praise to the name of the Lord 
forever! Amen. 



Lord, our Heavenly Father ! support us when 
the night of death approaches us. Prepare us by 
Thy grace, that on every day we may be ready to 
depart, and that we may not tremble when our 
eyes close in death. May we labor to secure to 
ourselves Thy favor ; may we not build upon that 
which is transitory, but may we lay hold of eternal 
life. Impress us with the truth, Lord ! that here 
we are pilgrims, but that we are called to return to 
that home where all those will be assembled who 
loved each other on earth, and who sought their 
delight and comfort in the Lord. 



THE FINAL TRIUMPH OF THE INNER LIFE. 

Luke 2 : 28-32. 

" Then took he him up in his arms, and blessed God, and said, Lord, 
now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, for mine eyes have seen 
thy salvation, which thou hast prepared before the face of all people ; 
a light to lighten the Gentiles, and the glory of thy people Israel." 

It is the privilege of the children of God to be 
led and guided in this life not so much by their 
own choice and reflection as by the spirit of truth. 
Simplicity of heart, purity of disposition, and de- 
votedness to their Creator, make them willing to 
listen everywhere for the voice of God. To hear 
it clearly and dispassionately, they frequently turn 
away from the noise and bustle of the world. To 
impress it deeply upon their minds, that it may 
live there and produce good fruits, they keep off 
all wicked desires and stormy passions. It is thus 
natural for them to become initiated by the Holy 
Spirit into the plans of God, for they are not only 
His servants, but also His friends and His children. 

One of these was Simeon. He had spent his life 
in works of true piety, for the Holy Spirit was in 
him 5 he was not too partial to his nation, nor con- 



316 THE FINAL TRIUMPH OF 

tracted in his views, for he longed for a Saviour 
who would be a blessing to the heathen as well as 
to the Jews. For such a Saviour this noble-minded 
and enlightened servant of God was anxiously 
waiting; and though old already, and no doubt 
near the grave, he was convinced that he should 
not die before he had seen the salvation of Israel, 
the sight of which had been promised him. At 
length this blessed hour arrived ; his patient, faith- 
ful waiting was rewarded, and with joy and grati- 
tude he exclaims, Lord, now lettest thou thy servant 
depart in peace. These words are the song of one 
who is about to depart ; they are the stammering 
of overflowing delight ; they contain all that any 
man could desire to utter with a full heart in the 
hour of death. 

Peace ! How much sweetness and bliss there is 
in this little word ! When in a gloomy hour, we 
reflect on our weakness and frailty, when bodily 
sufferings and pains, when mental cares and troubles 
agitate the mind, how happy are we then if the 
voice of a friend whispers in our ears : Peace! 

When our desires are in a state of tumult — when 
the passions rage within, and neither the strength 
of will nor a sense of duty can war successfully 
against them, how happy would we be if some kind 
power should at once send peace into our bosom. 

When we consider the mysteries of life, its many 
dark and unexpected occurrences, its unknown de- 
signs and purposes — when we look with regret 



THE INNER LIFE. 317 

upon the past, and with solicitude into the future, 
which conceals in its veiled bosom what it has in 
reserve for us, then we feel that we stand in need 
of peace. 

When the remembrance of our sins will not die 
— when, while we grow older it grows stronger — 
when sleep is a stranger to our couch, and consola- 
tion is nowhere to be found, then we know how 
sweet it must be to possess peace. 

But at no time is this little word peace a more 
welcome messenger, a more musical sound than in 
the hour of death. Happy the man upon whose 
dying ear the word peace falls. He knows that it 
comes from the Saviour ; for in Him alone is there 
peace ; out of Him there is none. We may write 
on the monuments of our deceased friends : Peace 
to their ashes ! but unless Christ gives them peace, 
it is but a pious wish which can never be fulfilled. 
In vain would we seek for peace in the schools of 
human wisdom, or in the halls devoted to pleasure, 
or in social intercourse, or in solitude : Christ alone 
is the source of true peace ; and only he who has 
seen Him by the eye of faith can have peace. 

This is the meaning of the text, and this will be 
my theme. Simeon, though near his death, had 
not yet found peace ; but as soon as he saw the 
long-expected Saviour, peace filled his soul and 
reigned over his dying hour. I shall therefore 

prove from my text this morning, 

974:' 



318 THE FINAL TRIUMPH OF 

That no Christian has ever regretted that he was a 
Christian, hut that many a man has regretted in the 
hour of death that he was not a Christian. 

The fact which I am about to establish, has been 
experienced so generally, that even a decided in- 
fidel would not demand many proofs. The dying 
bed of every true Christian bears witness to it. 
Though many a pious man may have been heard 
in his dying hour to express regret on account of 
many things which appeared innocent in the time of 
his vigor ; though many a pious man may have been 
heard to utter the wish, that it might be in his 
power to recall many of his actions and to extin- 
guish the remembrance of all his sins forever; yet, 
none has ever regretted having been a servant of 
Jesus Christ. The biography of that Christian has 
yet to appear, who, in the hour of death, was sorry 
because he had spent many hours in the house of 
God — because he had embraced the cross of Christ. 
Standing on the borders of two worlds, while time 
sinks away behind him, and eternity rises up before 
him, he can never declare his faith to have been 
an error, or his reverence of God to have been a 
vain imagination. Religion never led him to any- 
thing wrong, but it taught him to shun sin ; and 
if he dies in peace, he owes it not to nature but to 
religion. No one can call to mind a single case, 
either from history or from his own recollection, of a 
genuine Christian who regretted in the hour of death 



THE INNER LIFE. 319 

that he had hope in Christ; but all of us will be 
prepared to bear witness to the fact, that faith gives 
the dying Christian supernatural strength, and 
gains him an enviable victory over all the terrors of 
the grave. It is but a short time ago that we 
heard of the death of a great divine, of one whose 
learning was eminent, whose talents surpassed 
those of most of his contemporaries, whose mental 
energies have reared for him a monument which 
will never perish ; but what w r as his strength in 
death ? Whence did he derive consolation and 
peace ? Not from the greatness of his wisdom, nor 
from the depth of his intellect, nor from the high 
honor which his fellow-men had accorded to him ; 
but from communion w T ith Christ in the celebration 
of the Lord's Supper. 

Yet, without giving an account of individual 
cases, I would assert it again, that manifold as 
the views, pursuits and conditions of Christians 
may have been in life, different as the circum- 
stances may be in which they die, all find their 
peace and strength in the hour of death in the 
religion of Christ. Having seen salvation, they 
are all of them ready to exclaim: Lord, now 
lettest thou thy servant depart in peace. 

It is certain, bej'ond any doubt, that no Christian 
has ever regretted that he was a Christian. I may 
challenge any one to bring forth a single instance 
to the contrary. But when we turn our eyes upon 
the dying bed of him who is about to expire in his 



320 THE FINAL TRIUMPH OF 

sins, how the scene changes! Anguish and despair 
rest on his face ; his lips pronounce the name of a 
Saviour with trembling; his thoughts turn away 
with horror from the contemplation of a future 
judgment, and his breaking eyes dare not look into 
that eternity which holds out nothing but the pros- 
pect of pain and woe. If you ask him what tor- 
tures his mind so much, he will name to you the 
distance at which, during life, he was from God, 
who now summons him away by death. If you 
ask him, why the tears of sorrow flow so freely, he 
will answer, the recollection of so many lost, dese- 
crated, sinfully spent hours of his former life. If you 
ask him, what only wish, what chief desire agitates 
his fainting heart, he will tell you that it relates to 
religion ; that he longs, if it be possible, to become 
reconciled to God, before he meets Him as his Judge. 
Many a one who scoffed at religion and was a hero 
in infidelity during the days of youth, health and 
pleasure, grasps at religion in the hour of death, 
and bears witness to its saving and consoling power. 
Then he feels that none can come to God, nor 
please Him, without faith — without hope — without 
a Saviour on whom to depend. Left to himself 
and to his sins, he feels that the judgment of 
eternity is passed upon him already, and he dies in 
despair. There may, indeed, be some exceptions ; 
it may be, that some ungodly men die without any 
apparent struggle, but these instances will be rare, 
while those which I have alluded to, are but too 



THE INNER LIFE. 321 

common. We must remember also, that we do 
not hear every secret sigh, nor see every concealed 
tear, nor perceive the internal workings of the heart 
of every sinner in the hour of death. 

Let us see now, in the second place, that the 
experience which I have shown to be general, has 
its <j round and necessity in the nature of the Chris- 
tian religion, and that it consequently cannot be 
otherivise. In the hour of death, every one must 
feel delight or anguish, according as he has or has 
not lived in close communion with God ; for the 
religion of Christ alone gives light, peace and 
hope. 

To prove this position, we must turn our atten- 
tion to the consideration of that solemn hour which 
awaits every one of us at the appointed time. For 
it is at death only that w^e can see what man was 
in life ; what was the nature of the rock on which 
he reposed his confidence ; what was the anchor of 
his hope, the soul of his actions, and the foundation 
of his earthly existence. As long as we enjoy 
health and vigor, desires and passions may reign in 
us and claim our exclusive attention; during their 
reign, nothing is more attractive, nothing more 
pleasing than the sight of the objects to which we 
tend by our natural propensities ; and we hate and 
turn away from whatever is at war with these 
dominant passions, or is calculated to cool the ardor 
of our feelings. All the demands of our moral 



322 THE FINAL TRIUMPH OF 

and spiritual nature we may therefore succeed in 
silencing, by keeping the mind occupied exclusively 
with the demands of our sensual nature. 

But in the hour of death, the case is just the 
reverse. Then our senses are relaxed ; no desire, 
no passion rages any longer ; but the demands and 
claims of the soul call loudly upon us. Then we 
are placed on a lofty summit, from which, when we 
look back, we may once more, and for the last time, 
review the country with which we are about to part, 
and which lies behind us in the light of memory ; 
but when we look forward, that dark and unknown 
land presents itself, which is about to receive us 
and to keep us forever. Thus standing on the 
borders of two worlds, the one designed to prepare 
us for the other, the one sinking into darkness and 
confusion as the light of the other dawns upon us, 
can we help asking ourselves, whether we are pre- 
pared to become a citizen of the new country ? 
Will not then, if ever, questions present themselves 
like these : What am I ? What is all this that 
surrounds me? Whence am I? Whither am I 
going? What is my destination? What is the 
destination and end of the world? What w r ill 
become of me, when my eyes close in death ? Is 
it design or chance, wisdom or a blind fate, that 
reigns over the occurrences of the world, over the 
actions of man, their causes and consequences ? Is 
there a Providence? Is there a God? What is 
His power over me? What will He demand of 



THE INNER LIFE. 323 

me? Has He provided a way by which I might 
have satisfied the just claims of His law — by which 
I might have attained to a knowledge of the truth, 
to the possession and practice of virtue, and to the 
hope of eternal happiness? What must I fear in 
meeting the Judge of my life ? What may I hope ? 

Who would not be alarmed when such questions 
as these present themselves, as he is about to draw 
his last breath ! 

But now, let us for a moment compare the death 
of the Christian with that of the impenitent sinner ; 
let us suppose that both ask themselves the same 
questions ; and who, think you, has the greater 
light ? At the couch of the Christian, Christ whis- 
pers the words : / am the way, the truth, and the 
life ; lam the light of the world! He that followeth 
me, shall not walk in darkness, hut shall have the 
light of life. All darkness, all errors, all doubts, 
all ignorance and superstitious fears have been dis- 
pelled by the light of Christ ; in this light the 
Christian walks ; he knows God and fears Him ; he 
confides in Him, and is convinced that all things 
stand under His sovereignty ; that He orders and 
reigns over all things, that He directs and over- 
rules all things for the best interests of His chil- 
dren. And as during life the Christian perceived 
light, and order, and wisdom everywhere, so in the 
hour of death he praises God, and commends his 
spirit into the hands of the Saviour. 

But it must be far otherwise with an uncon- 



324 THE FINAL TRIUMPH OF 

verted man. He has always opposed religion, be- 
cause it opposed his sensual desires ; he has rejected 
it as superstition, because he could not endure its 
serious admonitions — because he could not endure 
the truth, requiring him to turn and become a new 
man ; he has sought for every pretext and has used 
every trifling excuse to justify him in rejecting the 
grace of the Saviour ; for it was his great desire to 
indulge his passions and vitiated inclinations with- 
out the least interference. Now, however, the 
charm of sensuality is dissolved ; the cold hand of 
death is laid upon him ; the power of lust and sen- 
sual pleasure dwindles into nothing ; the fire of im- 
agination, always the busy servant of all his vices, 
is extinguished, and gives place to cool and impar- 
tial reflection : then, at once, without any previous 
preparation, all things appear differently from what 
they seemed to be before ; his former labors and 
toils seem to be idle, his earthly fortune to be vain, 
his designs and hopes to be without any foundation. 
In this sad state of disappointment, all his former 
views of things are confounded — his former wisdom 
becomes ignorance and folly. He desires light, but 
it is too late. He is about to die, and all he can 
do is to accuse himself of his extreme perverse- 
ness, in choosing darkness as his guide, instead of 
light — in rejecting eternal happiness, in order to 
enjoy the short and transient pleasures of earth. 

Another reason why the dying Christian does 
not regret that he has lived the life of a Christian, 



THE INNER LIFE. 325 

and the dying sinner cannot help regretting that 
he has not accepted the offers of mercy, is derived 
from the nature of conscience. 

There is, at all times, a monitor in the breast of 
all men, which reminds them of the Divine law ; 
which judges in us of every action that we hear of, 
and constrains us to acknowledge the guilt or merit 
of our own actions. But its voice may be misun- 
derstood or even silenced by a determination not to 
listen to it ; conscience may slumber, or suffer us to 
go on in our wickedness ; we may stifle its voice by 
our occupations, pleasures, or dissipations ; we may 
mock at it by untimely wit, and defend our evil 
conduct in defiance of its accusations ; and we may 
attempt to bribe it by fallacious arguments, or 
render its judgment partial and favorable to our 
wishes. All this is possible while we are strong 
and vigorous, while sin exercises its full power in 
us, and while we desire and long for nothing but 
for sinful indulgence. But it is otherwise in the 
hour of death. Then conscience speaks clearly; 
then, as if during life it had accurately and care- 
fully collected and treasured up every small or 
great sin for the purpose of vindicating its insulted 
rights at a future period, it reminds us of every 
error and wilful transgression ; it reminds us of a 
Judge who will call us to an account, and terrifies 
us by the thought that we have acted without any 
regard to His authority, and have offended Him 

28 



326 THE FINAL TRIUMPH OF 

by denying Him that reverence and obedience 
which we, as His creatures, owe Him. 

And who do you think will have the more peace 
in that awful hour, the Christian or the impenitent 
sinner ? 

Let us consider, for a moment, the condition of 
the sinner. Forsaken by the occupations that once 
diverted his mind — by the hopes that once fluttered 
around his imagination — by all the earthly enjoy- 
ments that once pleased and delighted him, and 
by the vain and idle dreams in which he once lost 
himself; — he discovers that nothing of all he once 
thought desirable has followed him faithfully to 
the gates of eternity except his conscience. And 
what consolation, what comfort, will or can con- 
science afford him ? He has not listened to its 
voice, but has abused and insulted it ; he has not 
believed its admonitions, but has mocked its en- 
treaties. Hence conscience, instead of giving him 
peace, must become a source of unhappiness and 
despair. Conscience was given to man as a 
heavenly genius, not only to lead him safely 
through the errors of this life, but also to the 
Saviour. And conscience was faithful, but sin 
darkened and overruled it. Now, at the approach 
of death, when conscience again has resumed its 
sway, it holds up to the dying sinner above all that 
one great sin of unbelief ; and how terrible must a 
sense of this sin be ? When in common life we 
withhold belief from a statement made by one of 



THE INNER LIFE. 327 

our fellow-men, we fear to insult him by such want 
of confidence ; how awful, then, must the reproaches 
of conscience be to the impenitent in the final hour, 
because they have not believed Him who has never 
deceived them, who has loved them, and has been 
their Benefactor ever since they were born. Add 
to this the weight of the remembrance of all their 
sins without the least hope of reconciliation, a 
sense of the nearness of judgment without the pos- 
sibility of embracing Christ, and their ignorance of 
the kind and degree of punishment which awaits 
them ; and we must say, it is natural — it cannot be 
otherwise : in the hour of death, the impenitent 
sinner must regret his having remained an unbe- 
liever. 

If, on the other hand, you look upon the Chris- 
tian, the scene changes entirely. That greatest of 
all sins, which can never be forgiven, the sin of 
unbelief, does not terrify him. He has believed 
the word of his Creator; he has trusted in His 
word in life, and hence he has a right to trust in 
His compassion in death. His conscience, like that 
of the sinner, reminds him of many a sin, tells 
him that there is nothing in him on which he can 
rely, but his faith in Christ gives him peace ; while 
his conscience speaks of the displeasure of God, his 
faith speaks of love and mercy. God is indeed his 
Lord and his Judge, but he is also his Father ; he 
has repented of sin, and hence he is certain of the 
forgiving grace of God. Christ has suffered for 



328 THE FINAL TRIUMPH OF 

him, and procured him pardon. Him he will meet 
sitting at the right hand of God ; His he was during 
life ; His he will be in death. As Christ succored 
him in many temptations. He will be with him, 
too, in his last trial. Peace reigns in his bosom ; 
there is peace around his dying bed; and peace 
streams from his lips, to animate and encourage 
those around him. 

The last argument by which I intend to prove 
the above-mentioned experience is derived from the 
fact, that no man can either live in peace or die in 
peace without hope. 

No man can live in peace without hope ! No one 
has ever lived — no one has finished his course on 
earth without passing through many sufferings and 
troubles. To be mortal, to be surrounded by a 
world that is perishable with all it offers, and still 
to be always happy, is a contradiction. Even our 
joys are inseparably interwoven with our sufferings ; 
the former cannot be obtained without the latter ; 
for every pleasure is nothing else but the satisfaction 
of a want, and every want is painful. There are 
the sufferings of the mind and of the body — the 
sufferings of love and of friendship, of hatred and 
of enmity ; they follow each other quickly, and the 
one increases the bitterness of the other. What is 
it now that, under the many stings of grief and 
of pain, can preserve peace within. Is it not hope, 
which, in the midst of pain, anticipates pleasures 
yet to come? Is it not hope that, when all the 



THE INNER LIFE. 329 

fountains of pleasure and of wealth are drained, 
points out new ones ? that, when our plans do not 
prosper, when others enjoy the fruits of our labors, 
when friends separate from us, and when we are left 
to ourselves and to our misfortunes, paints in glow- 
ing colors other and better times hereafter ? The 
man who lives without hope, lives in despair ; he 
cannot enjoy peace. 

But if no man can live in peace without hope, 
neither can any one die in 'peace without hope. 
When the grave yawns to receive us — when we 
know that in a few hours we must part with the 
world — with the sweet custom to be and to live — 
with honors and riches, and with all the glories of 
earth — when we feel death laying its icy hand upon 
our hearts, and when we cannot help looking for- 
ward into the dark night to which we will be con- 
signed in the grave : will we not ask then whether 
this night will continue forever ? whether we shall 
have to lose life and all its blessings without recom- 
pense ? whether we shall all become dust ? whether 
we shall cease to be when the motion of our limbs 
ceases, and the circulation of the blood is stopped? 
But suppose that in me which thinks and asks 
these questions should survive my body, what will 
be its fate ? In what regions of the immeasurable 
system of worlds will.it be placed? Who will guide 
it ? What j oys or what sorrows await it ? 

The impenitent sinner has absolutely no answer 
to any one of these questions. There is no hope 

28* 



330 THE FINAL TRIUMPH OF 

to cheer him, no consolation, no comfort for him. 
He has denied the immortality of the soul; he 
has denied a state of final retribution ; but a few 
moments more, and he will ascertain the fearful 
truth of what he has denied ; but a few moments 
more, and he will know that to be a certainty 
which before he doubted. From this certainty he 
shrinks; he has nothing to hope, but much, very 
much, to fear. He can gain nothing if his infidel 
doctrines should be true, but must lose, and must 
lose infinitely, when he discovers that the religion 
of Jesus Christ is a reality. 

But the Christian has hope. He has heard and 
believed the words of Christ : " I am the resurrec- 
tion and the life : he that believeth in me, though 
he were dead, yet shall he live." To him death is 
but the birth into eternal life. He dreads no 
eternal night, no annihilation ; he looks for a glori- 
ous light. He leaves friends behind him; but he 
hopes to see others who have gone before him ; and 
he hopes also to see those follow him whom he now 
leaves behind. He does not fear to walk along the 
path of death, for his Saviour will guide him. His 
mind looks beyond the darkness of the grave, and 
fixes itself upon the glorious day of the general 
resurrection ; and he hopes to be among those who 
shall rise first, and meet the Lord in the air. 

If the reasons which I have pointed out be valid, 
we cannot marvel at the experience, that no Chris- 
tian ever regrets having been a Christian, while 



THE INNER LIFE. 331 

many a sinner weeps tears of bitter regret, because 
he is not and has not been a Christian. If this 
experience now is not only general, but also well 
established by manifest reasons, it must follow that 
all those who reject religion in the days of their 
health, act inconsiderately and unwisely. In what- 
ever light you may look upon religion, w r hatever 
objections you may wish to bring against it, or of 
how little use you may consider it to be for life, 
one thing at least is certain : it is of the greatest 
importance for the hour of death. To be a Chris- 
tian cannot injure any one; on the contrary, reli- 
gion gives light to the understanding, peace to the 
heart, consolation in our sufferings, and hope at the 
gate of eternity; not to be a Christian deprives us 
of all these great blessings, and cannot confer a 
single advantage by way of recompense. It is in- 
considerate, therefore, to live without true faith in 
Christ. 

It is unwise, also. No one knows when or under 
what circumstances he will have to leave this world; 
and wise we certainly cannot call him, who ex- 
poses himself, first to the reproaches and tortures 
of an awakened conscience, and then to eternal 
punishment beyond the grave. Prudent even, we 
cannot call him who does not, to say the least, take 
at all events the safe side, especially when this can 
be done without sacrificing a single true pleasure of 
this life. Wise we cannot call the man who lives 
only for this world, though he has not yet ascer- 



332 THE FINAL TRIUMPH OF 

tained, nor will he ever be able to ascertain with 
mathematical certainty, that there is no future life 
to follow the present life. Nor can we call him 
wise who has seen and believes that no man, in the 
hour of death, ever regrets having been an earnest 
Christian, whilst he knows that many agonize in 
despair, because they have neglected the claims of 
religion during life, — if he still continues to live 
on without God and without hope in the Saviour. 

My young friends, may it never be the lot of 
any one among you to die the death of a sinner. 
Despair and terror, in the hour of death, are but the 
foretaste of the bitterness and anguish which will 
follow. In eternity that sorrow commences which 
shall never be ended. Embrace religion, therefore, 
while your days are continued in the land of mercy; 
act the part of wisdom, and not that of inconside- 
rate folly. 

To those who believe that they have consecrated 
themselves to Christ, I would say, in conclusion, 
one word more. It is your duty to ascertain, above 
all things, whether you are truly the followers of 
Christ, or only imagine yourselves to be such. The 
hour of death will reveal the truth, if you do not 
discover it before. It is not enough merely to pro- 
fess Christ, to have a regard for religion, to attend 
regularly upon public worship, to support all the 
schemes of Christian benevolence, to possess the 
external form of piety, and rely on the promises 
given to the children of God : your faith must be 



THE INNER LIFE. 333 

full of life ; it must be the faith of Simeon ; a faith 
that desires above all to see the Saviour ; a faith 
that purifies the heart, and inspires us with love to 
God and to all men, to truth and holiness, and to 
every good and noble action. Search your hearts, 
therefore ; see whether they condemn you or not. If 
you, the professed followers of Christ, should be the 
false and mistaken friends of religion, you will be 
forsaken by Him in the hour of death, no less than 
His avowed and open enemies. 

But blessed and happy are those who can say 
with a full heart, "Lord, now lettest thou thy 
servant depart in peace." Acquainted with God, 
who calls them ; acceptable to Christ, who died for 
them ; purified from sin, which the Holy Spirit has 
taught them to hate ; full of zeal for all that is 
good ; prepared and ripe for a better world which 
awaits them ; — they part with earth and earthly 
things, full of joy and of peace ; and w r hile the gates 
of Heaven open to receive them, earth follows them 
with its blessings and with its gratitude. Christ is 
their life, and death will be their eternal gain. 
Amen. 



FINIS. 



SroalV* ©jrotiati fife 

LINDSAY & BLAKISTON, PHILADELPHIA, 

PUBLISH 

THE CHRISTIAN LIFE, 

BT 

THOMAS ARNOLD, D.D., 

AUTHOR OP "LECTURES ON MODERN HISTORY," "THE HISTORY OP ROME," <fec, Ac 

In two volumes, 12mo. 

Vol. I. contains " ITS COURSE, ITS HINDRANCES, AND ITS HELPS." 
VoL II. contains "ITS HOPES, ITS FEARS, AND ITS CLOSE." 

PRICE, FOR THE TWO VOLUMES, $2.00 



The Publishers give below a few only of the very many flattering 
notices they have received of this work: — 

We will venture to affirm that with the single exception of Bisnop Butler's, no sermons have ever 
been printed which contain so many " seeds of thought." No unthinking man can read them without 
being benefited. Our obligations to Arnold are so great that we cannot let this opportunity pass with- 
out recommending his works. Now that the American publishers have printed this work so well and 
so cheaply, let them be encouraged. We hope every clergyman and every intelligent layman will pro- 
cure this volume, and thus encourage the publishers to print all of Arnold's sermons, which in the 
English edition are in six volumes, and cost to import upwards of twenty dollars. — Southern Church- 
man. 

His aim is to make his readers acquainted with themselves ; to impress them with the necessity of 
controlling their passions; to unfold to them the principles by which they should be governed; to 
exemplify the nature and the difficulties of piety; and prompt them to a virtuous, a religious, and a 
•seful life. He is never common-place nor prolix. His thoughts are clear and fresh, often, unfolding his 
Bufc&'ects in new aspects, and leading the mind into fields never before explored, and glowing with objects 
of unexpected interest and beauty.— Lord's Review. 

The Christian life is set forth in these volumes with all that delightful fervor *nd force which charac- 
terized the late admirable author. They contain an exhibition of principles th: are of universal inteie 
to the religious reader. — Harpers' Magazine. 

Dr. Arnold was one of those men who make their mark upon the age m which they live. To great 
experience of life and knowledge of character, he united sound common sense, and, with erudition, he 
possessed what may be termed a capacity for practical generalizing. As a teacher of youth and as a 
clergyman, he " magnified his office," and his writings carry the evidence of the respect in which he 
held his vocation, and of the thorough manner in which he prosecuted it. — North American. 

We would earnestly counsel all parents to study this book, and to place it in the hands of their 
•sons.— Criterion. 

We honor the boldness of the man, we admire his scholarship, and we love his piety.— Evangelist. 



LINDSAY & BLAK IS TON'S PUBLICATIONS, 
THE SEPULCHRES OF OUR DEPARTED. 

BY THE REV. F. R. ANSPACH, A.M. 

••As flowers which night, when day is o'er, perfume, 
Breathes the sweet memory from a good man's tomb." 

Sir E. L. Bulwer. 

Third Edition. In one Vol., 12mo. Price $1. Cloth, gilt. $1 50. 

Tnta is a voiuma to comfort and to cneer ; to render the grave familiar, and to detive fr*m its eoo 
Mnplation the most encouraging hopes. A fine tone pervades the volume, and it abounds in just kb 
tun»nts ornately expressed. We should be glad to see that general seriousness of feeling which wouli 
cake such a volume popular.— Presbyterian. 

All Christians who are looking forward to the bliss of heaven, by passing through the tomb, will tx 
trengthened and comforted by glancing over the lessons here inculcated as addressed to the pilgnai 
11 search of that better country. — Christian Chronicle. 

THE CHILDREN OF THE NEW TESTAMENT. 

4 Beautiful Presentation Volume. By the Rev. Theophilus Stork, D. D., 
Pastor of St. Mark's Lutheran Church, Philadelphia. 

12mo., Cloth, 75 Cents ; in full gilt, $1 00. 

11 How oft, heart-sick and sore, 
I've wished I were once more 

A little child."— Mrs. Southey. 

TIj« general contents, the devotional and lovely spirit that pervades it, the flowing, lucid, and rice 
Miction, the sound sentiments, the encouragements to parents to bring up their children in the fear of 
the Lord, the abounding consolations for those who in God's providence have been called to yield np 
their little ones to Him who gave them, these and other characteristics, render this book one of tht 
most interesting and valuable of the kind that has for a long time been presented to the public— 
Lutheran Observer. 

STRUGGLES FOR LIFE, An Autobiography. 
In One Vol., 12mo. Price $1 00. 

What Sunny and Shady Side are, as descriptive of American Pastoral Life, this delightful volume Js 
as descriptive of the Life of an English pastor. It describes, in a most felicitous style, his labours, 
trials, sorrows, pleasures, and joys. But, perhaps, its chief value consists in the vivid views it give* 
ef human nature as illustrated in the leading characteristics of Eng I _sh society, manners, and custom* 
— Spectator. 

THE POETICAL WORKS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 

The only complete edition ; collected and prepared by him just prior to his death. 

With a Portrait. One Volume, octavo. 
Price, in Library style, $2 00 ; Cloth, full gilt, $3 00 ; Turkey Morocco, $4 00 

The poetry of the Sheffield bard has an established reputation among serious readers of every class 
The spirit of the humble Christian and the pure Philanthropist, breathes through it all; and few wiir 
rise from the perusal of Mr. Montgomery's poems without feeling the elevating power of his chast« 
and beautiful lines. We are glad to see such a favourite poet in such graceful attire. The type 
paper, and entire "getting up" of this volume, is in tasteful accordance with the precious gems 1* 
, and reflects great credit 'he publishers.— Recorder. 



Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. 
Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide 
Treatment Date: Oct. 2005 

PreservationTechnologies 

A WORLD LEADER IN PAPER PRESERVATION 

1 1 1 Thomson Park Drive 
Cranberry Township, PA 16066 
(724) 779-21 1 1 



